I Cannot Tell a Lie
by AdmHawthorne
Summary: Jane is determined to test Maura's inability to lie by asking questions she's sure Maura would rather not answer truthfully. Co-written with Googlemouth. Repost from 4/2011
1. Chapter 1

Repost. Originally posted on 4-11-11 under Googlemouth's account.

Characters aren't mine. They belong to Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro (or whoever is about to take her place), Turner Broadcasting, Warner Brothers, and other assorted important people. I gain nothing from writing these stories but the fun of doing it. Please don't sue me.

* * *

"Positive," said Dr. Maura Isles as she met Jane at the precinct building, first thing in the morning. The lab technician had called her the moment he had read the readout from the mass spectrometer, knowing she would be glad to have the information. "Low levels were detected, but enough to determine the cause of death. Mathias was poisoned." A little thrill went through her, as it often did when she delivered the good news that she had solved a medical puzzle. Her best friend would be able to use the answers she had found to obtain justice for a young murdered boy.

Jane, or as the Boston Police Department knew her, Detective Rizzoli, got a look in her eye of partial satisfaction. She had an answer, and now the chase was on in earnest. This was her favorite part of any murder investigation, when all the pieces came together to form a cohesive, coherent picture of the how, the why, and most of all the who of the murder. "I know why I had that dream," she said with an undercurrent of building excitement in her husky voice, "because I know where I've seen that plant before. Can you type the genetics of the monkshood in Matt's body and match it to the plant it came from?"

"No," replied the medical examiner as they stepped towards the building.

"Can you lie about that?" Jane asked, already envisioning the scenario in her head. Knowing where she had seen the monkshood plant was the key to nailing the killer. When confronted with the 'facts' of the genetic typing, the stepmother, an avid home gardener, was bound to break and confess. Jane even had a pretty good idea of the motive involved. The stepmother wanted to have children by the boy's father, who said that he already had a son and didn't need more. But Maura dashed her hopes.

"No. I don't lie." She stopped walking, shocked that such a thing would even be asked of her.

"Well, it's not a lie," Jane backtracked a bit.

Maura tipped her head and pursed her lips, looking disappointed. "Well, yes, it is. I know when it is. I start to hyperventilate."

"Okay, it's a white lie," tried Jane again, acknowledging what she thought was the basic point. After all, it was a lie that would result in truth coming out, in justice being served. It wasn't a pointless lie, or a malicious lie, or a lie that would have bad consequences. It wasn't so bad to massage the truth a little bit, was it?

Again, Maura shot her down. "It's still a lie."

Inside, Jane pushed the elevator button. It ground into action, dinging and opening almost immediately. "You've never lied to a guy and tell him he was good when he wasn't?"

"No."

No way. Jane couldn't believe such an assertion. It was one thing to _say_ that you couldn't lie, but another to actually live that way. Everyone lied all the time, she knew. As a detective, she saw huge lies all the time, but also the little tiny lies that even very good people would utter just to grease the wheels and make daily conversations easier. She decided to test it out. "Do you like this shirt with this jacket?" she asked as she pushed the button for the basement where the morgue and evidence lockers were located, feeling certain Maura would either lie, or try to distract her from remembering that she wanted the truth. Or then again, Jane would be told that she actually did look okay today, which would also be nice.

But Maura didn't miss a beat. "Not really, no."

The elevator doors closed on Jane's disbelieving expression.

Ever since that day, Jane had made a game of trying to catch Maura in a lie. She didn't do it often, hoping that Maura would never realize what she was doing, and so far Maura seemed oblivious.

It started at the end of a work day, when she'd worn her only clean trousers even though they were of a decidedly non-flattering cut. "Hey, do these pants make my butt look big?"

Maura had studied Jane's rear end, and Jane was sure she would try to come up with something nice to say. "Yes. There's no convincing reason you should ever wear them again. Your hips aren't nearly as wide as those awful trousers make them look. I wish you'd let me take you shopping, or at least introduce you to my tailor."

A couple of days later, Jane tried again, right in front of Korsak. "Korsak, you smell like wet dog. Doesn't he, Maura?"

"Yes."

Later that same day, "Frost was bragging about his date saying he was a good kisser. You think he would be?"

Maura considered the question as her scalpel cleanly opened their latest murder victim. "Undoubtedly. He has very attractive lips."

A couple of weeks went by before Jane tried again. "I got a call yesterday from a guy I knew in high school. Actually, the first guy I ever slept with. Hey, how old were you?"

"When?" Maura asked, distracted from the conversation by the pair of Louboutins she had been flirting with for days, mouse hovering over the image button, finger hovering over the mouse button, flicking back and forth indecisively, before virtuously closing the window instead. Today, she actually clicked the Add To Cart button instead.

"When you… you know…"

Maura was busy typing in the number from her credit card, memorized long ago. "No, I don't."

Jane kept pressing. "When you first had sex. Lost your virginity."

This time Maura's hazel eyes did flick up towards Jane. "Define sex."

"Maura, why do you have to be so _literal_?" Jane gave a little stomp of her foot. "You know what sex is," she gave a shrug, rolling her eyes as she did so, "I mean, come on, you're a doctor." She gave an exasperated sigh. "Okay, okay… so when did you first… have," the detective cringed, not believing she was actually asking the question out loud, "intercourse?" She made a face. "God, I hate clinical terms. It's, like, the worst kind of uncomfortable."

Maura tilted her head, wearing a look of insistence that Jane at least try to understand. "There are a lot of different definitions of sex, Jane. Some people define sex as being any genital contact – internal or external, whether orgasm is achieved or not, and some don't even require that contact to be voluntary on both parts in order to qualify for the definition. Others define it as any orgasm from any stimulation whatsoever, or even an attempt at orgasm. Very broadly, one can include vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, manual sex which is otherwise known as mutual masturbation, phone sex, video sex, and of course solitary sexual experiences which have their own _wide_ array of…"

"Okay, Maura, I get the picture." The detective rolled her eyes. "Fine… fine… how about," she made another face, "internal genital contact by someone other than yourself where orgasm was attempted." She shifted uncomfortably. "God, I can't believe I got myself into this."

If Maura found any amusement at Jane's expense, she did not let on as she leaned back in her chair to consider. "Let's see. Genital contact… internal… attempted orgasm… Wow, this is a harder question than I thought it would be. Okay. Well, I can't count Garrett, because there was no genital contact at all. Terry won't count, either, since Terry never reciprocated, so Terry had sex but I didn't. By the same token, Shawn and I were always clothed, so there was no direct genital contact. Chris and I… that was all external. And of course, Adrian and I weren't actually attempting orgasm at all, and at the time had no idea what it even was. We were just playing. By your definition, I can really only count my experiences with Ashton, so I was… of legal age." She paused. "In that state."

Jane blinked as she listened to her friend's list, and her famous gut suggested a new line of inquiry. "Maura… change of question here. How many of those people on your list are guys?" Eyes narrowing, she leaned against Maura's desk.

At that point, Maura became suspicious. "What is this about, Jane? You've never been interested in hearing any details about my sexual history before."

"First, answer the question. Then, I'll tell you." Jane's face turned smug.

Maura's lips tightened in disapproval of the deal, but in the end she accepted Jane's terms. "Garrett, Terry, and Chris."

Jane's eyes widen as she pushed off the desk, practically dancing. "Ha! I _knew_ it. You _do_ lie!" She pointed at Maura, her voice cracking with her excitement. "Last night you said, 'I wonder what kind of women we would like _if_ we liked women', but, if you've had sex with a women, then that means you _do_ like women, which means you lied when you made that statement. Which means," Jane made a grand gesture with her hands to accentuate her point, "you _do_ lie." She made an 'ah ha' face quickly followed by a puzzled face. "What a minute… Maura, you like women?"

Maura stood to follow Jane and calm her down, hands raised to calm and shush her friend and keep her lab safe from flailing arms. However, that accusing finger pointed right at her chest, causing her to come up short. "I… uh… Well, um, Jane, what I meant to ask on that occasion was what sort of woman each of us might favor if we liked _women._ Liking women specifically would imply that gender were the most important qualifying factor when evaluating a potential sexual or romantic partner."

Her voice started out a bit tense and higher in pitch, as dishonesty was not a comfortable accusation and she hated being thrust into a defensive role, but lowered as she found sure footing in precision. "I can't actually say I ever gave it any thought. So, no, I didn't lie, because I don't like _women._ I also don't like _men. _I can tell it wasn't a lie because I didn't have any trouble breathing at the time."

"You don't like women, but you've slept with at least three?" Jane was clearly confused. "Maura… what? Okay, okay," she dropped her hand, shaking her head to clear the confusion. "So, basically what you're telling me here is you're just attracted to whoever?" She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as Maura nodded, though she didn't seem to notice the nonverbal affirmative. "So, that time, when you said, 'People are attracted to people who are attracted to them'… what does _that_ all mean? Does that mean you're attracted to… you know, I don't even know what I'm saying right now." The detective let out a groan of frustration.

"If you had paid attention, you would realize that I just told you," Maura reminded Jane, "that according to your own stated criteria, I only had sex with one. But yes, being attracted to someone does provide a higher probability that they'll be attracted to you. You see, people, as well as animals, exude attraction pheromones indicating a purely biochemical attraction. Pheromones put out by one person will often affect the object of their attraction, causing that person to also put out pheromones."

Again she paused, processing the conversation as far as it had progressed. It puzzled her; she couldn't think of any reason for it. "Jane, did you ask me these very _personal_ questions just to catch me in a lie? Because if that's what you want, maybe you should try asking things you're a lot more sure I wouldn't want to answer."

With a defeated sigh, Jane waved her hand as if to dismiss the whole thing. Shoulders slumping, she said in a tired voice, "Yeah, I did, and I'm going to stop trying. Just… just answer this for me, okay? I just want a straight answer that I can actually follow, please?" She ran a hand across her forehead, trying to battle the headache growing between her eyes. "Maura, are you bisexual? I don't care, but, thanks to this conversation, I really want to know."


	2. Chapter 2

"The term 'bisexual' has always struck me as a bit inaccurate," Maura replied with a little too much nonchalance to be real. "It implies that sexuality is binary, and that sexual contact is the only factor, or at least the primary factor, in a relationship. In actuality, sexuality isn't binary. It isn't even a two-dimensional spectrum, but a three-dimensional array of possibilities, potentialities, combinations, activities…" She broke off at the beginning of the budding dissertation, seeing that Jane was beginning to tune out. Perhaps if she hurried, she thought, she might forestall a larger argument. "But in common parlance, I accept it as a good enough term to go on with. As imprecise as the term is, I suppose it fits. Theoretically, that is. Technically, I've only had sex with one person according to your standards for defining sex, and therefore I can't really say with certainty that…" It was happening again. Jane was not just tuning out, but becoming annoyed with her. "Okay, yes."

"_Thank_ you," Jane rolled her eyes. "It'd be nice if you could just say yes or no without qualifying everything all the time. I mean, was it so hard to just say yes?" She waved her hand to cut off Maura's inevitable response. "I can't say I'm surprised, but I still think you were lying with that whole '_if_ we liked women' thing. But whatever."

"No, I wasn't," Maura began, but Jane wasn't finished yet.

The detective cleared her throat as she thought about what she'd just learned about her best friend. "Look, I'm not going to judge you or anything, but this does kind of weird me out a little. I mean, we've slept in the same bed and…"

_Slept in the same bed? Of what possible significance… OH! How dare she! She's just insinuated that I would make inappropriate advances on her, just because I'm bisexual and she's a woman! What's worse, the fact that she finds it natural to assume the worst of my character? Or to believe that I'm so desperate for any sexual contact that I would initiate it with someone who wasn't interested in me?_

In response to Maura's delicate arching of one eyebrow, Jane rethought where she was going. "You know, whatever comes out of my mouth right now is just going to sound homophobic, which I'm not. The bi thing… and the lesbian thing… it's just not _my_ thing. But, if it makes you happy, more power to you." She shook her head, frowning deeply. "Just do me a favor and don't give me any… _details_ if you happen to pick up a girlfriend, okay? I'll support you and whatever, but I don't want to know the details, and don't do that thing you do where you overshare in a clinical way, okay?"

The heart dropped right out of Maura as she listened to Jane in amazement. What had happened? Where had this come from? Jane been so good at soothing the wife of a murdered woman just yesterday, acknowledging Mrs. Gaynor-Randle's right to know what had happened, holding her hands and comforting her. _She held a lesbian's hands in the interrogation room, knowing full well that they were the hands that had made love to a woman. Hands aren't just hands for a lesbian, they're sexual organs. Of course, maybe she didn't really think about that. If she had, would she have hesitated to offer comforting touch, or jerked her hands away from a grieving woman's to avoid becoming _contaminated_?_

_And what's the problem with sharing details? I never have before. What makes Jane think I would give her any more details about women than I do about men? I've discussed theory, general practice… but I've never said a word about anything I do, myself, with anyone. That's private. If someone wants to know what I do in bed, they can take me there themselves, if I like them enough. Of course, _Maura's thoughts went into overdrive as she stood mute and still _the bi thing and the lesbian thing aren't her thing. She actually thinks she has to tell me that. Thanks, Jane. I don't know how I could have lived through the rest of this day without your knee-jerk rejection._ That was what hurt the worst, out of all the things she'd just heard from her best friend, because it cut the closest to where she lived.

The truth was, though she would never make an advance on someone she didn't know was interested, Maura could have sworn Jane _was_ interested. The pathologist flipped through her mental scrapbook, a collection of moments she'd shared with Jane. Long looks with dilated pupils that had caused Maura's heart rate to increase. Frequent touches that expressed affection with a nearly proprietary undertone, or so Maura had interpreted them at the time. A willingness to step outside the rather rigid boundaries of her comfort zone just because Maura suggested something they could do together. _For pity's sake, she trained for, and ran, a marathon just to spend more time with me,_ Maura's mind shouted in frustration, _and Jane hates to run! But oh, no, she couldn't possibly be interested in me. Because the bi thing and the lesbian thing aren't her thing. And all those times she's watched my legs, or eyed my cleavage, or stared at my lips while touching hers, or inhaled deeply when I'm standing right near her… oh, right, that must be because she's just marveling at how much she doesn't want me. Sure. Oh, yay, I've discovered sarcasm. The lowest form of wit. Way to go, Jane, for teaching me a reason to think and speak with bitterness._

"You're right," Maura finally replied softly. "It does sound homophobic." With that, she turned back to her desktop and clicked CANCEL PURCHASE.

Then, and only then, did she remember that just that morning, she had agreed to go undercover for the first time. As a waitress. In a lesbian bar. Maura suppressed a sigh, but gathered all her dignity and self-control. She was a professional, and her job would come first. She would help Jane find the killer of a lesbian, one of the members of her own worldwide non-heterosexual 'family'. The rest, Maura could shelve until there was time and opportunity to process this sinking feeling. Maura stood, taking the opportunity to subtly dispel the dejectedness from her shoulders and spinal column. "I'll see you tonight at Merch."

You know," Jane started, but stopped herself as she watched her friend move. "I'm sorry. I'll go. I didn't mean to… yeah, right, see you tonight." Turning on her heels, the detective quickly left the room.

After finishing her day's work at the precinct, Maura headed directly to Merch, where she was met by Barry Frost and a uniformed officer as well as the owner of the lesbian bar. The purpose was to get her outfitted in some variation on the bar's waitressing uniforms. When shown the various uniforms, Maura hoped at first for the 'butch' version, which consisted of black trousers, white tuxedo blouse, a black bowler hat, and a bow tie and vest of black with white polka dots. She had never quite brought herself to attempt to go even butch-lite, and thought it would be fun to try. However, the owner took one look at her figure and pulled out the femme version of the uniform. "This one should fit you. Go try it on; you can use my office."

Maura went into the office and closed the door, then swapped her Christian Dior dress for the black and white polka-dotted bustier and the plaid skirt. _Skirt,_ Maura repeated to herself with humor. _It's really just a belt with delusions of grandeur. I'll never be able to go out in public like…_ Then Maura turned towards the mirror. Her own jaw dropped when she saw herself.

…_This._

She was transfixed. The outfit was definitely not high-end. Nothing about it was classy, refined, dignified, or even decent. The outfit made her look far too accessible, far too available. An outfit like this was an invitation, a promise, an advertisement. It was cheap, in fact, and it made her look cheap_. _

Cheap and _hot_.

"_I'd_ do me," she murmured with the beginnings of approval, the beginnings of a smug smile tugging at her lips. She had never seen herself in this way before. Oh, she knew she looked good, but she'd always looked good in the same way. A person could begin to bore herself, and others who saw her regularly, if nothing every changed. It became expected, old hat. The Merch waitressing uniform changed her entire self-perception.

As she watched herself in the mirror, turning and posing to see the outfit in all its angles, it occurred to Maura that perhaps there was a cure for the foul mood that had weighed her down for most of the day, as well as a way to test the concordance or discordance between what she had observed of her best friend until today and what Jane had said to dash cold water over those perceptions. _All right, Jane. Let's see you tell me this isn't your thing _now.

Maura re-dressed in her normal clothing and left the office. "It fits," she said with a small, secret smile, and spent the next half-hour learning the work rules so she could perform her waitressing duties well that night.

Jane arrived later, had a chat with the owner, put on her wire and left to go have a mini meeting with Frost and Korsak. "You know you two totally owe me for this, right? I can't believe you're making me run through a bunch of dates with women. This is crazy. I'd rather go out on a date with one of my mother's crazy setups." Jane rolled her eyes.

"Easy, Rizzoli, it's just one night. Besides, it's not like you're going to take any of 'em home… right?" Korsak waggled an eyebrow.

"Really?" With a look that threatened all sorts of pain, Jane turned to Frost. "Is he serious?"

"Well, I… I mean, Korsak's just being Korsak, Jane. You know we don't really think you're gay." Frost gave a nervous glance to the grey haired detective next to him. "Right, Korsak?"

"Yeah, sure. Come on, Rizzoli, I'm only ribbing you a little."

"Well, cut it out. I don't want to do this to begin with. You two and Maura got me into this, and – wait a second, who was it that actually decided to set me up on that site? Was it Maura?" The brunette crossed her arms.

"No. Frost and I thought it'd be a good idea. Dr. Isles just happened to come in on it, and she decided that we weren't doing a good job." Korsak rolled her eyes.

"I still think we should have gone with 'butch'." Frost mumbled.

"Okay, I've had enough of that. I get called a dyke enough by the rest of the cops and the perps, without you two starting in. Anyway, are we ready for this or what?"

Frost turned to the monitors. "Yeah, we're all set. You can go in whenever." Frost turned to the monitors.

In a few moments, Jane was walking into the bar. She darted her eyes around trying to find Maura in the crowd, but she didn't see her. Then, a waitress walked up to greet her, and Jane's eyes nearly bulged from her head. "_Maura_?"

Maura had been having a pretty good night, so far. The rules for waitresses at Merch were fairly simple, and the work was easy. Establishing herself as a bar employee had been easy, and she hadn't even needed to lie. When someone had asked if she were new, her answer had been the perfectly truthful, "Oh, I'm just working here tonight as a favor to a friend." She could memorize three or four tables full of drink orders and get them correct.

Most importantly, she had gotten some gratifying – if slightly too forward – attention from some of the more confident bar patrons. Even a few phone numbers had worked their way into her hands, tip cup, and on three separate occasions, the top of her bustier. The flirting was fun, and was earning her a higher tip rate than she'd been led to expect. By the time Maura's eyes caught sight of Jane, paying the cover charge to the bouncer and stepping inside, her confidence level had risen to its usual heights, and she felt more able to assess the situation.

Jane was dressed normally, as if she'd just gotten off work, but she'd done something to make her hair look just a tiny bit more sleek, and it looked as though she'd very subtly adjusted her eye makeup and lip color. As well, there was a confident swagger in her step, which Maura usually only saw when Jane had figured out everything that was relevant to a case, and the only thing left was to trick the culprit into revealing whatever proof would be most likely to serve the People well once it came to trial. She was, Maura realized, on the prowl. _Whether she knows it or not._ The realization gave her a subtle thrill, then a moment's pause. Would this predatory look be any different if Jane were seeking a mate, as opposed to a felon? What if Maura couldn't distinguish, and misinterpreted any or all signals Jane might be sending tonight? This might not work as well as she'd hoped, after all.

Still, she had a plan and wasn't going to deviate from it a bit. The plan was simple, as plans went, but she felt it would be effective. Maura wouldn't even have to do much, just act normal while wearing that cheap, over-sexualizing outfit. If Jane wasn't startled enough by the difference in her appearance to actually _look_ at her, surely she'd at least be a little bit surprised by how comfortable Maura was in this attire, this setting, in the deferential position of serving rather than being served. Maybe just seeing her differently would be enough to jar her a little. Some of her college acquaintances used to call it "freaking the mundanes." She'd never done it herself, but as she saw Jane's eyes alight on her at last, she knew it was going to be fun.

"Your table's ready, miss," she said to Jane in a low, soft voice. Her bedroom voice, accompanied by inviting bedroom eyes, chin lowered so that she had to look through a partial veil of eyelashes; and Maura knew that, as good a reader of human emotion and motive as Jane was, that fact wouldn't escape notice even though Jane had never heard and seen those on her before. What she hoped Jane would not notice, at least on a conscious level, was the infinitesimally subtle forward lean of her torso, the barely perceptible presentation of the soft, wide expanse of shoulders and the swell of breasts supported by only the polka-dotted bustier.

"Oh my God," Jane grumbled as she started to pull off her top shirt. "Put this on!" Her eyes ran over Maura's outfit.

"I will not," replied Maura saucily, starting to enjoy how uncomfortable she was making Jane. "I'm undercover." _You asked for it,_ she thought with a vague feeling of sweet revenge. _You all but threw down the gauntlet, with your 'not my thing'._ "Follow me, please."

When the doctor declined to conceal her physical assets, Jane groaned, squealing, "Oh my _God_" again, this time under her breath and through gritted teeth, as she followed Maura to the table.

Sitting down to wait for her first 'date', Jane shifted nervously in her chair, eyes searching the room until Maura came back with her beer. "Maura, I can't believe you're wearing that. I thought you were going to wear the one with pants."

"So did I," replied the medical examiner-_cum_-waitress with a breezy tone, "but this one fit me better." She paused to allow the awareness of the uniform's fit to penetrate to Jane's conscious mind, then added, "By the way, this one's beer, but the next few will be sparkling apple cider." She set down the beer, angling her shoulders away from Jane as did servers in upscale restaurants and wealthy persons' homes. Nevertheless, it didn't entirely conceal from the sharp-eyed detective the very edge of a slender card peeking out over the very edge of the fabric on the inner slope of Maura's right breast.

"What," Jane reached over, grabbing at the card, "is this?" Not bothering to think about where her hand had just been, the detective looked at the card. "Seriously? Maura, is this some girl's number? Really?" She looked at the card again, her eyes narrowing. "How many of these have you gotten tonight?"

Maura's hand flew protectively towards her bosom, though too late to stop the unthinking violation of personal space, as she gave an affronted huff. "Jane, give that back!" she fired off rapidly, not even giving a hint of a nod to answering the question.


	3. Chapter 3

"No way," Jane held the card away from the doctor. "A bar is an awful place to pick up chicks, Maur. I'm only watching out for you." She moved to put the card in the front pocket of her undershirt, grinning as she so, despite seeing Maura's eyes narrowing. "I'm your best friend. It's my duty to make sure you don't go home with some questionable chick. Besides, any of these women could be the murderer. I mean, come on, I only have your safety in mind here." She tucked the card away. "What? Don't look so shocked. I said it wasn't _my_ thing, but, if it's _your_ thing, I'm going to at least act like the best friend that I am, and make sure you don't wind up with a murderer, okay?"

Maura's lips tightened as her eyes flashed danger as she replied with terrible evenness, "I thank you for your concern, but somehow I managed to conduct a _very satisfying_ sexual life before I met you, and I would very much like to resume it without interference from someone who has told me she wants to know nothing about it. However, I _am_ intelligent enough to avoid unnecessary risks, which is why I'm not going to call anyone back until you've caught the perpetrator and eliminated all my prospects from suspicion. Once the murderer is caught, I fully intend to take advantage of the new contacts this case has afforded me."

She stepped closer, lowering her voice further. Most of the peril lacing through it, she tamped down, leaving nothing but the soft enticement of that sultry you-know-you-want-me voice from earlier. "Besides, maybe… maybe I _want_ to go home with some questionable chick, Jane. Maybe what I'm looking for _isn't_ something safe. Did you think about that, or did you just assume that what you've seen of me is all there is?" Her head did a very small, but challenging, little tilty thing; on anyone else, it would have been an invitation to a throwdown. "Now, _give it back_._"_

Jane blinked rapidly, her mouth suddenly dry. "When this is over," she said, reaching back into her front pocket, "We're going to have to talk about this hang up you've got about me asking for no details." Slowly pulling the card out, she leaned just a little away from the honey blonde. "Because, you make it sound like I have something against who you are, and, if that were the case, I wouldn't be working this case right now." She discreetly stuck the card back from whence it came. "You're my friend, Maura. I support you in whatever you do, and I'm allowed to be concerned for you, okay?"

This time, Maura did not move to stop Jane from slipping the card into the center of her bustier, taking those few seconds to regain some of her equanimity and pleasant disposition. She laid a gentle hand over Jane's just before it pulled all the way back out of her personal space. "I do know you're my friend. My _best_ friend. I know you don't object to who I am. However, you felt the need to tell me not to share details. I've never shared the intimate details of my sexual life with you, whether that involved men, other women, or neither, but you never thought you had to warn me before to be discreet or polite." She took a calming breath, releasing the offense she had taken earlier to that comment. "That tells me this is different for you. I _accept_ that it's different for you because that's who you are. There have to be some separations between us, apparently. Some boundaries. I get it, Jane. Don't ask, and I won't tell. Now," she concluded, "I'm going to do my job while you do yours. Just try not to look too repulsed when I flirt with you tonight, okay? All these women you'll be meeting… well, they'll be suspicious if you look too nervous. Just try not to take it personally." Then her hand left Jane's, and she turned around to continue her evening's work, showing people to their tables.

Jane had been set up on over a dozen dates. The first few were unremarkable, but Maura dutifully took their drinking glasses or bottles when they were finished, tucking them into evidence bags which she kept under the bar. By the fourth date, mousy little Miranda, she'd become quite adept at her routine, serving each table, then coming to Jane's to remove a drink on a separate trip so that no glass could ever be mixed up with those of other patrons of Merch.

Halfway through the Miranda encounter, Maura came to the table to remove Jane's beer bottle filled with sparkling cider and Miranda's Zima. "Can I get you ladies anything else?" she asked, leaning across Jane to fetch the glass. This time she reached with her outside hand, so that instead of looking down her shoulder, Jane could be given a full, unobstructed view of her lifted-and-separated breasts. She thought this was what a 'femme' waitress would do, given Jane's attractiveness level and her duty, as a waitress, to flirt to increase tipping generosity.

Jane's head turned, eyes falling on the exposed skin currently eye level with her. Breath catching, eyes growing large, and mouth again going dry, she managed to rasp out with a straight face, "No," she turned her head to her current date, eyes still large, "I'm good. Miranda?"

"My real name is Mary Ann," squeaked the mousy woman.

As Maura left the table, tiny smile going smug once her back was to her friend, Jane shifted in her chair, trying to keep her attention on the quiet woman in front of her, but her eyes kept flicking back to Maura as she moved around the room.

By the time Jane's final date was over, she was openly watching Maura work. Maura was pretty good at it, too. From her vantage point, Jane had a clear view of Maura's attentions at a table about eight yards away, where a trio of rather burly women sat. One motioned to herself and the other two, mentioning a drink order, then added something with a sly smile as she drew a business card out of her pocket. Maura's brow lifted; she nodded, then remained still as the woman's thick, muscular hand drew nearer to her chest. The corner of the card drew slowly from Maura's cheek, down the side of her neck, and over the curvature of her chest before finally coming to rest, with the help of those strong-looking fingers, right down in the place where, throughout the night, different colored cards had peeked out. _Thank you,_ one could read on her lips. In Jane's ear, Barry Frost groaned out a heartfelt, _"Daaaaaaamn."_ Then Maura winked and sashayed back behind the bar, where she knelt down. By the time she stood up and returned to Jane's table to remove the final date's half-finished Cosmopolitan, the card was gone – tucked away in her purse, along with a few dozen others.

"By my count, that was your last date," Maura said with a light tone, cheeks flushed. "Are you going to be leaving now? Because if you are, my shift will be over. At least, officially."

"Yeah, just… uh… I think I need to have an actual beer before I go. Would you mind grabbing me one? After I finish it, maybe we could, um," her eyes flickered over to the table of burly women, "meet up? I'm starving. What do you think about dinner at that 24 hour diner?" Again she nervously shifted as she had to keep pulling her eyes up from her friend's cleavage line.

"All right. Let me get that for you, and then I'll go and get out of this uniform." Maura left the subtle mental image hanging in the air, smiling as she swayed back to the bar for a real beer for Jane. Mission accomplished. She had seen all she needed to see this evening. Jane had responded to her, at least physically. Pupils had dilated, breathing had been shallow or quick at times, and Jane had kept watching her in between dates. Sometimes, she'd even watched when a date was there.

Moreover, Maura assessed that Jane had entirely ignored all those women, at least in terms of personal connection. had done a good job at being undercover as a bored, uninterested lesbian whose attention had never been captured by a single one of her arranged meetings. So whether she would ever admit it or not, Maura knew that Jane had the potential to be attracted to, if not other women, _Maura._ "Here you are, miss," she purred, still in persona for the next few minutes. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"I, um, no, thank you," Jane took the beer from Maura's hand, letting out a little gasp as their fingers brushed against each other. "I'm just going to finish this one, and I think I'm done for the night." She gave a weak smile.

As Maura sauntered away from the table again, Jane took a long drag from her bottle, not bothering to look away from her friend's swaying hips.

Later, after making notes for her report and talking with Frost and Korsak, Jane walked into the diner, her eyes searching for Maura. She'd managed to stop by her apartment, and had changed into a pair of jeans, one knee starting to give, and a black T-shirt. She hadn't bothered to wash her face or do anything with her hair. Her favorite pair of black boots made clicking sounds as she walked across the small restaurant to table she normally shared with Maura when they went there to eat. She was distracted enough that, when the bouncy-haired medical examiner sat down across from her, she nearly did a spit take with her beer. She was that startled.

Maura arrived barely later after finishing what was ostensibly 'her' shift, having borrowed the bar owner's shower in the back of the office, apparently installed for purposes of ridding herself of spills and the occasional customer's vomit. Clean, smoke-free, and dressed as herself again (albeit with slightly more makeup, in accordance with what she'd worn earlier), she seemed almost smaller, as if the brazen barmaid that had shared space within her body simply didn't exist anymore. "Is this seat taken?" she asked, slipping into it before permission was given. "Goodness. The work seems easy while it's happening, but tonight makes me very, very glad I attended medical school. So. Any good prospects?" By which she meant, any good candidates for potential murderer.

"One that came in while I was finishing my last beer. We're going to look into it tomorrow." Jane waved her hand. "We'll figure it out." She looked at the menu. "Want to share something? Fries? Chicken nachos?" She ran a finger over the menu. "Oh, what about an ice cream sundae?" She looked up, eyes sparkling as Maura's face expressed doubt as to her sanity. "Come on, Maur, you _know_ you want to have ice cream for dinner." She smiled. "Please?"

Normally, Maura would give in to just about anything Jane asked her, but this time, still keyed up from her time at Merch, she shook her head. "Absolutely no ice cream. Fries, nachos, whatever you want – but I absolutely forbid you access to whipped cream tonight."

A dumbfounded look crossed Jane's face. "You… what? Why? That's the best part of the sundae. Maur, you're killing me here. Come on…. Please? I mean, I can practically taste the vanilla ice cream with strawberry sauce right now." She made a little whining noise in the back of her throat, her eyes pleading with the woman across from her.

"Jane," Maura began, looking sympathetic with her friend's craving and plight, "I know how you've spent the last six hours. You sat at a table, drinking beer or a reasonable look-alike thereof, and listened to people who didn't interest you at all. For you, tonight was like being on twenty of your mother's set-ups, only worse, because at least your mother looks in the correct forty-six percent of the world's population for someone appropriate for you. Tonight was mind-numbingly boring for you. But do you know how _I_ spent tonight?"

"Is this a trick question?" Jane gave the doctor a puzzled look. "You waited tables and took DNA samples."

Maura's lips pursed in impatience. "Yes… but no. That's not what I meant. I spent the night flirting, and being flirted with, on a frequency that I haven't enjoyed since college – and this time, by people who clearly weren't new at it, who were confident in their skills, most of them with probably very good reason, many of them extremely attractive. I was in a new environment, which contributed to hyperawareness of myself and everyone around me. I was also wearing clothing that was… I'll say that it was highly unusual for me, and it made me extremely aware of my body, the way it looked, the way it felt, the way other people responded to it and watched me in it. For _six hours,_ Jane." She waited for the implications to sink in.

The detective leaned back in the booth, giving the honey blonde a look of concentration. Then, the light bulb moment happened. "Oh, I… hmm… okay, right." Again, that nervous shift. "Well, yeah, so, no cream, no _whipped cream_ then." She swallowed hard, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "Listen, if you need to, um, leave, I totally get that." She chewed on her bottom lip for a second or two. "I mean, I didn't think," she grimaced, "Geeze, Maura, I'm sorry. That probably should have occurred to me. I don't want to keep you from doing anyone, any_thing_," she winced, "that you might want to do. So, if you want to skip out, I can deal with dinner on my own. That's totally cool." Jane shut her eyes for a moment, her hand nervously tapping a rhythm against the table top, knee bouncing underneath.

Maura chuckled. "I told you I was going to wait to call anyone back until after you'd cleared my prospects of suspicion. If I weren't here, I'd be going home alone." More implications were present in the blush she couldn't keep from her cheeks, the way she suddenly couldn't look up from the flatware that her hands were straightening compulsively on the table. "Anyway, I'd rather be with you, or I wouldn't have accepted the suggestion to come here. I just… Jane, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I can see that I already have." Her nod and pointed, though subtle, glance took in the tapping fingers, the jittery leg beneath the table that was causing the detective's upper body to vibrate along with it. "So… nachos?" Not that those would be much better than ice cream, but at least there was vegetable content.

"It's fine, Maura. You just have to give me some time to adjust, that's all. Plus, you know, finding out that you're... um, that you bat for both teams just before going undercover at a lesbian bar... you have to admit the timing's a little awkward," glancing up at the doctor, Jane quickly added, "for me." She rolled her eyes at her own discomfort. "Okay, look, the thing is that I'm _really_ sorry about earlier. The stuff I said about... you know ...it was out of line, and I should give you more credit than that. I mean, I know you, Maura. You're the same person now that you were two days ago. I just... it threw me, you know? It's just not something I get. I mean, I kind of do, but then I don't. So, I _want_ to be okay with it and just keep doing what we always do, but, now, I'm really paranoid about sticking my foot in my mouth, which I seem to be doing a good job of anyway." Her frown deepened. "You're my friend, and I want to understand things that you like, things you do so that I can be supportive. Besides, I'm a detective. I just... I don't know... I mean, I just naturally like to figure out what makes people tick, and I _thought_ I understood you, but, then, you tell me something that I didn't really think," she sighed. "Man, I think I need a shovel." Her leg bounced faster, fingers pounding away "So... anyway... yeah, nachos sound good."

Maura was grateful, in a way. If she had been looking for a way to take the edge off her hormonal levels, she couldn't have picked a better one than discussing her best friend's discomfort with bisexuality. Her fidgeting with the flatware slowed, then ceased altogether as she listened intently. "Jane, let me ask you something," she began, but was interrupted by the waiter wanting to know how the ladies were doing and what he could get for them tonight.

"Chicken nachos, a Coke for me, and a diet Coke and slices of lime for her," Jane responded to the server, answering on autopilot. The order wasn't unusual. The two women often shared nachos. However, the pause in conversation made Jane's fidgeting worse.

When the waiter had departed to the kitchen, Maura continued. "I need to ask you if you've ever felt uncomfortable around me, before today."


	4. Chapter 4

"What? No. Of course not," Jane's eyes darted up to meet the doctors. "Well, maybe once, but that's only because I didn't expect it." She frowned, her hand playing with the butter knife resting on her side of the table. "A few weeks ago, when you spent the night at my place, I woke up about two or two-thirty in the morning, and you were completely wrapped around me, and I sort of freaked out." She rushed through the next couple of sentences. "Not because you were laying on me. That wasn't it. I mean, that's happened before. No big deal." She shrugged. "I... honestly, I don't know. But, after a couple of minutes, I calmed down, and went back to sleep." She gave another shrugged. "I mean, it was cold, and I was comfortable, and _you_ were comfortable... you were asleep. I mean, that's got to mean you were comfortable, right?" She flinched slightly. "When I woke up again, you were already in the bathroom getting ready for yoga, so I don't know how we wound up when _you_ woke up. But, anyway, that's the only time, and it wasn't even you. It was _me_." She gave a humorless chuckle. "Now I'm using a bad breakup lines." She rolled her eyes again. "It's not you, babe, it's me." She snorted. "Man, I suck at this talking stuff."

The server returned with their drinks, another short pause to increase the awkwardness between them before their conversation could continue. "Every time we've shared a bed," Maura replied very quietly, "I've awakened at some point in the night to find you curled around me. Or tangled up in me. Or on top of me."

"I... I didn't know that." Jane moved to fidget with her glass. "That had to be really uncomfortable for you. I'm sorry, Maura." She took a sip of her drink.

"_I_ wasn't uncomfortable," Maura pointed out, "or I'd have mentioned it before. I never wanted you to feel self-conscious in our time together, especially when you were able to sleep."

Jane hesitated, but decided not to address that comment directly, simply filing it away in her mind for later. "Given everything you've told me over the past few hours and the complete ass I've made of myself, I figure the least I could do is tell you that," she gave a frustrated grunt. "I sleep better when we're... um ...when we share a bed. I guess maybe that's probably why." With a sigh and visible shake, Jane tried to calm herself down. "Like I said, I had a weird moment earlier. I don't know why I freaked out. I mean, being around you... being that close to you... has never been an issue for me, and I'm going to try really hard for it to still not be an issue because it's silly to let something as," she clenched her hands, visibly trying to keep herself calm, "I don't want to say trivial because you're not trivial in any sense of the word, but something as not important as who you may or may not date keep me from appreciating the... the company of my best friend." She swallowed. "I trust you, Maura. I'm not going to let my stupid insecurities change that because _you_ haven't done anything wrong, and, let's face it, there aren't very many people I trust."

Maura nodded, though not easily. "I trust you, too, Jane. That's why I answered your question today. I didn't have to do that; I could have said it wasn't your business, or deflected your attention. I only had one reason for answering you when you asked me if I was bisexual, and it wasn't out of any feeling that I was being coerced or compelled to answer."

Jane stared down into her drink, watching the bubbles pop on the surface as she continued to calm her nerves. Finally, after taking a few long, deep breaths, she asked in a quiet voice, "Would I be prying too much if I asked why you answered me? I don't want to be too nosy and offend you again or something. So, if you don't want to tell me, I understand." She looked back at the doctor, waiting.

Maura opened her mouth to reply, but just then the waiter appeared with their plate of nachos, laden with chicken, black beans, huge amounts of vegetables, molten cheese, and – as if mocking Maura for requesting that Jane avoid whipped cream – twin dollops of sour cream and guacamole. He departed as Maura was staring at it, and she resumed as if he'd never been there. "I mentioned the names of the people I had been close to, but not had sex with. Most people would have asked me if there was anyone I _had_ had sex with, if there were so many who didn't qualify under your criteria. You asked me about their genders instead. When I answered your question, I was hoping to learn why you'd asked _that._ It wasn't the obvious question, not at all."

"Oh," Jane grabbed a nacho, making sure to get some sour cream. "It really was innocent. I was just trying to see if you ever lie. But, I mean... okay, I was being an ass again. That's why I asked. That whole thing about _'if'_ we like women meant, to me at least, that you were straight. So, when it hit me you might _not_ be straight, well, then that meant you did actually lie from time to time." She popped the chip in her mouth, chewing it quickly and swallowing. "Like I said, I was being an ass, and I'm sorry. I believe you... that you don't lie." She glanced down at her hand and scrunched her nose up. "Man, I always manage to get this stuff all over my hands when we eat nachos." She quickly ran her tongue over the side of her hand, attempting to lick off the sour cream that had found its way there.

"But how did it hit you?" Maura pressed. "I've been careful not to let that become a factor in our friendship. I've tried not to give you any indication of this aspect of my life, because I didn't want you to be uneasy with me. How," she pressed, "did that notion ever occur to you?"

"I don't know. It was just a gut feeling after you listed off the names." The detective pursed her lips in thought as she grabbed another nacho to drag through the sour cream and guacamole. "Something in my gut told me to ask you. You know how I operate when I'm trying to prove something or figure something out, Maura. I mean, it's just like with a suspect. I just go with what my instincts tell me to go with." She popped the chip in her mouth and frowned at her fingertips. Making an annoyed face, she stuck the tip of her index finger in her mouth to get the guacamole off of it.

Maura listened, accepting the explanation. She disliked guesses, hunches, and assumptions, but knowing that Jane regularly used them – really, just another form of intuition, the act of rapidly assimilating information and forming conclusions too quickly for the conscious mind to follow – allowed her to accept that this was what had occurred. She let it go in favor of focusing on what was increasingly catching and holding her attention. More than once already, Maura had indulged in surreptitious watching while Jane licked sour cream or guacamole from her hands. It was distracting. It was uncouth. It was annoying. It was…

_Worse than whipped cream._ Her lips pressed together, and she looked off to the side for a moment, collecting her composure. There had been too much flirtation tonight, too many beautiful women, too much playing of roles. That was the part that made it all more difficult, she realized. She'd played her role of saucy barmaid, but Jane had played a bolder, lesbian version of herself. It had been mentally stimulating, fun, but on an emotional level, it had been confusing, and physically it had been a little too close to not roleplaying at all. Leaning, brushing against Jane, making eyes – it had become real. It had become what she often wished she could do. It wasn't safe.

Several moments passed before Maura realized that she'd been quiet. Had Jane just said something? Was she supposed to respond? "I'm sorry, Jane, I'm not… What did you say?"

"Nothing," Jane gave a little smirk. "I've been watching you watch me eat these nachos for the past two minutes." She chuckled at the doctor's expression. "Are you sure you don't need to take a breather? I mean, I don't normally spill my guts like this, but I promise I'll keep talking tomorrow, if you need to go home tonight. I don't want to muck up our friendship, so... yeah...I'll talk." She wiped her hands on her napkin. "This is the part where you normally tell me that my 'gut instinct' is nothing more than something about assimilating something, something, and something about speed." Her smirk broadened. "Right?"

Again, Maura blushed, this time so much more deeply that she almost appeared to have been imbibing, or at least spending too much time in the sun. "I told you before that I wouldn't be calling any of those numbers I got tonight until you'd cleared them as suspects. If I left right now, I'd go home alone." Which was not to say that she might not indulge, of course, but Maura wasn't about to mention that little tidbit. There were limits that should always be firmly in place between even the closest of friends. "But I do think I need to use the restroom. I'll be right back." Rapidly, so as to avoid argument, the smaller woman stood and strode towards the ladies' room, the cleanliness of which was her chief motivating factor in ever returning to this diner. She splashed her face with water a few times, hoping the chill would cool her down a bit, then brushed her hair, dried her hands, and returned to her seat. "Thank you for watching my purse."

"You had a purse over there?" Jane leaned over the table to look. "Good to know." She leaned back, pushing the nacho plate toward the honey blonde. "Hey, Maura, can I ask you a favor that might sound kind of weird considering all the stuff we've been talking about tonight?"

Finally, Maura had resisted the nachos for long enough to assuage her guilty nutritional conscience, and she dug in to scoop up a particularly cheesy chip with a little tomato on it. "You know you can ask me anything, Jane. If I'm not comfortable doing it, I'll say so." Given what her friend's questions had been thus far today, Maura knew she was playing with fire in giving Jane _carte blanche,_ but she didn't have nearly as many boundaries with Jane as she did with others. By the time she'd realized that she should have at least a few, that 'I can tell my best friend anything' was just a hyperbolic statement that many people used rather than an accurate assessment of any relationship, it was too late: Jane had burrowed in past the demeanor that Maura wore and into every corner of her psyche, making a home there.

"I was wondering if you were planning to come home with me tonight or go back to your place?" She flinched. "That came out kind of funny, but you know what I mean." She took a sip of her drink to distract her from her own awkwardness.

Nonplussed, Maura elected to smile rather than express confusion. "I hadn't made a plan, but if you have a preference, I'll honor your wishes." The ball bounced back into Jane's court as Maura snagged another bite from the nacho plate, which was quickly becoming a mess, as were her fingers. However, she was loathe to actually lick them, lest Jane become uncomfortable. _Or worse, she might _not_be uncomfortable, proving that I'm mistaken all along, and she's completely numb to me._

"Well, I kind of do, but... now, it sounds, okay, I'm just going to try for honest and ignore the weird. It's probably not going to work out, but, just be patient with me here." She took in a large stream of air. "I haven't been sleeping well the past couple of weeks, and, last night, when you accidentally fell asleep, I actually slept through the night, which hasn't happened in... a while. I'm not positive what all the connections are here, but I'm thinking that I'm having... issues... again, and I just need someone I trust close by when I'm trying to sleep. I was going to figure out some kind of excuse to get you to stay over. But, I'm thinking that right now, being straight with you is probably for the best." She finished her drink off and pushed it to the side. "I kind of want you to come home with me. But, I don't know, does that sound weird considering how weird I've been since this morning?" She closed one eye, scrunching her nose up, then dropping her face back down to show a huge level of confusion. "I have no idea what the hell is going on in my head right now."

"As it happens," Maura replied as she pushed the nacho plate back towards Jane, indicating that she was finished with it, "I do know what's going on in your head. You can't sleep, you need a friend, and I'm here. You want to table your concerns for the night so that you can have what you know you've always had, rather than focus on the new information that's put you off balance. And because we're still best friends, I'm going to let you do that. Of course I'll come home with you." She caught the server's eye and made the little please-bring-the-check motion with one hand.

"Well, I'm glad one of us knows what's going on," Jane let out a sigh of relief.

Jane waited patiently for Maura to finish her routine and come to bed. She had walked and fed the dog, set the alarm, and was reading Sports Illustrated when the bathroom door opened, a cloud of steam billowed out, and Maura walked into the bedroom, unnoticed by the detective who was engrossed in an article.

"_Mmmm,"_ hummed the honey-blonde as she fingercombed her towel-dried hair back from her face, "I love your shower head. I've been thinking about getting one of those. That extra-strong pulse really gets shampoo out of the hair efficiently." Apparently the hot temperature also helped her quite a lot; her skin was still pink from the heat, and she looked more relaxed than she'd been all day long. She stood by the bed to rub lotion into her limbs, wanting to keep some of that good moisture in her skin instead of wasting it on the atmosphere. "What are you reading?"

"Baseball article," Jane glanced up, saw Maura was running a line of lotion across her arms, blushed, and looked back at the magazine. "It's about our new pitcher. I just don't know about him yet, but I'm thinking he's got to be better than who we had." She grunted in frustration as she tossed the magazine onto her night stand. "New lotion?"

Maura hadn't intended anything with the lotion other than to care for her skin, but she hadn't missed Jane's reaction, and decided to see if she could provoke any others. She turned away slightly to do the other arm, plus her neck and the upper portion of her lightly freckled chest, which showed above the cotton-silk blend tank top. In turning, she ostensibly gave Jane some privacy to observe or not, as she chose; but the placement of the wall mirror allowed her a sliver by which to watch her watcher. "Yes. It's a lemon and cardamom blend. Spicy, but very fresh, and not too sweet, and the effects on the skin are frankly awe-inspiring. I feel positively dewy. Is this new pitcher traded from another team, or did he come up from the minors?" she wondered, having been researching so that she could at least listen intelligently to Jane and her fellow sports enthusiasts.

Jane watched the doctor intently as she applied the lotion, her mouth slightly agape. "Um, new... from the minor leagues. When did you start paying attention to baseball? I thought you were into fencing, which, for the record, is still not a sport." Her voice was light, but her eyes were intense, breathing more shallow than normal as she watched and waited.

"When I knew it was important to you," replied Maura as she propped her toes on the edge of the bed to apply another handful of lotion, this time to her legs. "Also, fencing _is_ a sport. Sometime I'll teach you a little bit and you can see how the scoring works." Though shorter than Jane, her legs were proportionately long, and toned from a childhood of ballet followed by teen years spent fencing, adulthood spent running and doing yoga, pilates, and whatever else came her way. She was actually a very sporty person; she just did her sports with good grooming and a smile rather than a scowl of grim determination.

She was also a very observant person who could hear the ragged breathing to her side, and knew very well its cause.

But mostly, Maura Isles was a subtle person. A brash, brazen person might point out the breathing, might lift a brow and ask if Jane was enjoying the show. Not Maura. She simply finished smoothing the cream over her skin, stretched once to elongate her spine (and, she admitted to herself, to draw in just a little bit more of her friend's attention), and slipped into bed. "Read as long as you want," she suggested, lying flat on her back and closing her eyes with a smile. "It won't bother me." Gradually, her breathing slowed and deepened, evening out into sleep.

Raising an eyebrow in an unspoken question, Jane regarded the doctor for a moment before turning the light off and slipping down between the covers. It took little time for her to follow her friend's lead and quietly slip into sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**BEEPBEEPBEEP**

**BEEPBEEPBEEP**

**BEEPBEEPBEE—**

The alarm clock was an unpleasant intrusion into Jane's heroic rescue of Princess Toadstool. She was moments away from storming the castle and saving the princess when the incessant beeping pushed her back into the conscious world. With a groan, she reached out, searching for the alarm, only to discover she was facing the wrong way. Grunting, she rolled over, slammed the snooze button, and rolled back to her previous spot. It was only then that she realized she had somehow managed to use Maura's chest as her cuddle-pillow for some portion of the night. Her immediate thought was to pull up and run for the bathroom, but the thought closely following it was something warm, fuzzy, and comfortable. She liked the second one better, and decided to go with it until the alarm went off again. Sighing, she resettled, one arm and one leg thrown across the body of the small woman.

The irritating beep had made Maura fuss a little in her sleep, brow furrowed in concentration as she strove to recapture her dreams, or at least the rest that went with them. Jane's movement was another stressor in her quest for unconsciousness, robbing her of warmth and physical contact; but as the lean woman's body returned to cover her again, struggle ceased. The leg that wasn't under Jane slid outward, allowing Jane's to fall between her thighs, and a brief stretch, her spine and pelvis realigned to be even more welcoming. A final, satisfied sigh returned her to her dreams, even more pleasant than before, for another nine minutes of bliss.

**BEEPBEEPBEEP**

**BEEPBEEPBEEP**

**BEEP B—**

"I'll save you," Jane mumbled to the princess in her half sleep as the alarm blared behind her. It took a good minute for her to wake up enough to roll over and turn the alarm off. But, her body refused to wake up, and she rolled back over to find her comfy spot again: head on Maura's chest, arm over her waist, leg between the other woman's thighs. She gave a small hum of contentment as she drifted into the world between sleep and awake knowing she would have to force herself to get up soon or face her lieutenant's wrath at being late again.

More than half asleep, Maura still fussed as Jane moved off of her once again. Sleep-leaden arms attempted to reach out for Jane in that few seconds of separation and the bent leg tried to curl around Jane's to recapture and bring it back to her, but all that happened was a slight adjustment in sleeping posture, so that when the lanky woman's body sank back into hers after the interminable four seconds or so, the placement was different. Just a little different, but it mattered, and Maura's spine and pelvis found themselves less comfortable than before. Even in the depths of somnolence, her body sought greater comfort with tiny movements and compensations.

_She was on a crowded dance club, bodies pressed all around her, as the driving beat pushed her back into them all. She was afire, powerful, strong, beautiful, dextrous. She was a rock star, a celebrity, the gorgeous popular girl that everyone wanted, including The One: tall, dark, devastatingly attractive, and frustratingly good at avoiding the swirling lights, remaining shadowed in face and figure… and coming towards her. She continued to dance, her movements drawing in The One in a come-hither that was subtle, at first, but became more blatant as the figure approached. The crowd parted unwillingly, as if everyone in it wanted to be a part of them, to touch them and share what they had, but they _did_part enough for her to writhe in increasingly sexual manner, for The One to stride confidently towards her and begin to reciprocate. The music pulsed hotter and harder all through them, and suddenly the floors opened and water rose all around them, so that they were both dancing and swimming, wetter and warmer. The One moved far more slowly than the music, than Maura, cool and collected, teasing her by remaining untouched no matter how frantic Maura became, how desperate for that contact. She could not speak, could not reach out for The One to pull him/her/it close to her. She wanted to ask, to plead, to beg shamelessly for touch and satisfaction, but all she could do was move, writhe, grind the air less than an inch away from The One, sob with deep, developing need._

Jane's eyes shot open as her brain registered the fact that the honey blonde she was currently laying on top of was writhing in her sleep. The brunette's body tensed as she took a mental inventory, noting where her thigh was currently located and the fact that the hand that was touching Maura was precariously close to the other woman's breast.

Unsure what to do to not make the situation more awkward than it already was, Jane tried to think of a good way to pull herself away without waking the other woman up, but she quickly realized that Maura's thighs were too tightly clutched against her own. She could feel the heat of her blush as she tried to work out how to deal with this situation. Maura's… need was very evident against Jane's captured thigh, and, though Jane was hard pressed to admit it, she found her own body reacting to Maura's.

Mentally checking herself to put that thought on the back burner, the detective let out a small groan of frustration. This was exactly the kind of thing she had been trying to avoid. Grinding her teeth to keep herself from over reacting and, once again, making a fool of herself. She took in a deep breath before, finally, deciding the best course of action was to wake the doctor up.

"Maura," she said, her voice still husky with sleep, "you have to wake up." She moved her hand down to grasp the smaller woman's waist and give her a gentle shake. "God, Maura, _please_ wake up." Her voice was full of pleading, cracking with the force of Jane trying not to freak out at both the situation and her reaction to it.

_And then it happened. The One's hand slid slowly towards her and crept around her waist. Contact, at last! her body screamed in delight, and suddenly she found her voice. She was able to whimper, to gasp, to moan in gratitude as her body at last, at last pressed against The One to find strength, curve, power, insistence. It was happening then, a sureness that all that dancing hadn't just been for exercise. There was a conclusion, and she was rapidly, burningly reaching it. Her lungs expanded, she opened her mouth…_

…and a low, shuddering moan pulled itself from her throat, waking her just seconds before she could reach the climax she needed. Joyfully, she realized that there really was a body pressed into hers, just as taut and hard with muscle, just as soft with what she now recognized as feminine curves; but with an emotional and mental anguish that was just as strong as her delight and arousal had been, Maura recognized the body, the voice begging her to wake. She opened her eyes, which flooded with fear and embarrassment. Her writhing body locked into stillness, and her moan of pure and unadulterated sex metamorphosed into a sob of regret as she fought mightily to arrest and kill the orgasm her body needed so desperately. "_Nnnno_," she protested, barely verbal, as Jane attempted to withdraw from her, and she stuttered, "D-d-don't, don't, d-don't mmmmove or I'll… _Ohhh_ G-g-god…"

Shock, as if Jane had suddenly been hit with a taser, ran through her body. All thought of moving away left her in a rush as her body tingled with confusion and her eyes grew large with a mixture or surprise and fear. Her thigh, still firmly clamped between Maura's was tense and, she mentally flinched, moist. Her hands were vice grips where they rested, one in the sheets, the other against Maura's shirt as the blonde struggled against what she wanted – obviously wanted – so, so much.

"Oh," Jane managed to breathe out before swallowing hard and blinking a few times, watching her friend experience something she was pretty certain friends should never see friends experience. "Maura," she whispered, trying not to flinch, trying not to panic, and not sure of what to do.

She watched.

Jane's breaths came in pants, beads of sweat had formed on her neck and across her hairline, and the look of uncertainty battled with something else that was new for the detective.

Heroically, Maura fought her natural inclination, muscles tightening in resistance, face and chest red with embarrassment, but also with vasocongestion as she worked to bring herself down on what her body knew, screamed, was the wrong side of the peak at which it teetered. "Shh," she pleaded, tears leaking from her eyes at the sound of her name on Jane's tongue, "Shh, nnno, God no, no, shh." She shuddered, though fortunately for both their sakes, not with orgasm; it was the strain of clamping it down that brought near-pain to her body, closed her eyes, and drew the sheen of effort-induced perspiration out of her pores to glow dewily on her skin. "Nnno, please, no name, don't say my n-n-nnn…," begged the woman in a whimpering whisper from out of the depths.

Slowly closing her mouth from the 'O' expression of surprise it had been stuck in on and off since she felt her friends body spasm from her unintentional touch, Jane took in a slow, measured breath. "Are you okay, Maur?" She flinched despite herself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

With excruciatingly slow progress, Maura's body slid away from the edge of unreached fulfillment, heralded by a fresh flow of tears. Her eyes opened, but would not rise to meet Jane's face. "I'm," she croaked, then licked her lips and swallowed, "I'm… I'm okay." Meaning, not okay at all. Her breathing was still rapid and shallow, but with impressive control (considering) she forced it to slow and deepen. When she thought the danger of the greater embarrassment was over, her leg released its iron grip on Jane's. Shortly thereafter followed the arms she had flung around her dream-lover and all-too-real friend, letting go and then rising so that her hands could cover her shamed face before another sob could escape her, this one expressing not completion, but finality. Her face turned away from Jane as she whispered hoarsely, weakly, "You didn't. It was… I was dreaming, and… Jane, I _never_ would have… I'm so sorry."

Sitting up quickly, Jane's immediate response was to place a comforting hand on her crying friend's arm for comfort, and she did so without hesitation. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay, Maura. I know. It was a dream. They happen." She rubbed her hand up and down the doctor's arm, trying to soothe her. "Sometimes, your body just has a mind of its own. Please don't cry. I hate it when you cry." She tried to pull the other woman's hands down, but could not force her to unfold from the ball of embarrassment she was curled into. "Don't cry, Maur. It's okay. There's nothing to be embarrassed about." Bending her head down so their eyes met, she gave her friend a concerned, caring look. "Besides," she offered a small, private smile that almost made it to her eyes, "I don't think I like the fact that I was good enough to make you get… _like that_, but bad enough to make you cry about it." She smirked. "Not much of compliment on my skills, is it?"

Maura made not even a token effort to stop crying; all her effort at self-control that morning had already been expended, and all she could do was ride out the waves of self-recrimination and raw embarrassment until they ended on their own. It took quite a while before she was able to say anything other than an apology, to uncover her face, or to move at all. When she could manage anything else, it was to say softly, "Isn't it bad enough, without you teasing me?"

"I… sorry. That's just how I deal, you know? But, that was insensitive of me. Sorry… I didn't mean to be a jerk." Jane let her hand fall back onto the bed. "It, uh," glancing around the room, looking anywhere but at her friend, she managed to get out in a quiet tone, "It really wasn't 'bad', Maura." She raised an eyebrow as her eyes settled on a random speck on the wall by the bedroom door. "I mean, you know, I… it didn't bother me." Jane chewed on the corner of her lip, glancing from the wall down to her hands.


	6. Chapter 6

Maura inhaled as if preparing to speak, but then let it out as nothing more than a resigned, shamed sigh on her way to standing and leaving the room, not even bothering to tug down the hem of her tank top on the way towards the bathroom down. Her posture was as erect as ever from the shoulders down, but her head was bent, and her walk was slow. She paused in the doorway, however. Without turning around, she placed her hand on the doorpost for support as she murmured, "Yes, it did. It either bothered you, or it bothers you that it didn't." Then she continued her walk down the hallway.

The bathroom door closed. One could hear the shower turn on to heat the water as she used the toilet, then washed her hands and brushed her teeth. Once the water was heated, she cracked the door, indicating that Jane could feel free to get herself ready for the day without regard for Maura's privacy, which in any case was pointless now.

Left alone in her bed, Jane gave thought to the last words Maura had said. Had it bothered her? Had it not? Why wasn't she as upset as she would think she would be in this situation? Why was she so… hot and bothered? She frowned. This was turning out to be one hell of a morning, and not in a good way.

"No, it didn't bother me, but it should have," she said out loud into the quiet of her room before sliding out of the bed and walking to the bathroom door.

Poised to knock, she was surprised to see the door cracked open. Generally speaking, Maura was normally very modest despite her willingness to talk about almost anything. The doctor always closed the bathroom door. On the heels of that thought, Jane realized her friend must feel like any modesty she had ever had was gone. "Oh man," she shook her head, frustrated at the situation.

She quietly slipped in to run through most of her morning routine, brushing her teeth, combing her hair, and such while Maura showered. Jane tried not to glance over at her opaque curtain, but she found it difficult. When she slipped back out to go to her bedroom and pull clothes for the day before she took her own shower, she finally had a thought come to her that she was sure would at least help with what was happening here.

Jane was standing by her bed in her underwear and a sports bra when Maura walked back into the bedroom, still naked and uncaring of her own body. Immediately, the smaller woman averted her gaze, until Jane cleared her throat to get her attention back. Holding up a hand to indicate she had something to say, she began pointing to the scars that ran across her body as her eyes caught and held her friend's.

"This one, I got in a knife fight in high school. Some idiot chick thought she could run over Frankie, and I stepped up. I got 15 stitches, but she lost the fight." She was pointing to a clean scar just under the line of her sports bra. "This one," she pointed to her neck, "was courtesy of Hoyt." She held up her hands. "So were these. This one," she pointed to a jagged scar on her right thigh, "was from a bike accident when I was fifteen. I was goofing around, which I shouldn't have been doing, and fell onto a really rough stretch of gravel." She frowned, shaking her head and continuing, not letting the doctor say a word. "This one," she pointed to a line of scars on her inner thigh on the opposite leg, "is from an accident on an old boyfriend's motorcycle. I told Ma and Pop I was sleeping over at my friend's house, and then I snuck out to go make out with him." She sighed, remembering.

"Jane," Maura tried, pained along with her friend, though she was not at all clear on where this was going. But Jane wasn't finished yet.

"There are three on my back from a whip, an actual bullwhip. I was in camp. I was 10. Some bullies thought it'd be funny to tie me up and whip me because I wasn't afraid of them. It hurt like hell. I didn't cry. I refused to let them win." She stopped pointing and walked toward her friend, still talking. "I have scars on my chest, under the bra, and there's one on my scalp from the bike accident. I'm covered in scars… inside and out, and they make me self-conscious. I know they're there, and _all_ of them I caused in some way or the other. Either I was being stupid or hard headed." She stopped in front of her friend. "No one gets to see these. It's more intimate than sex for me… for someone to see them and know where they come from." She swallowed, her eyes full of nothing but honest sincerity. "But, I trust you to know, and I know you won't judge me for having them because I know you know that they are just a part of who I am." She shrugged. "I trust you to just love all of me, even the parts that might make you uncomfortable."

Maura nodded, helpless against all that past pain, helpless against the feelings she had exposed over the last day, helpless under Jane's trust of her, helpless to avoid her love or make it easier for Jane to bear. She couldn't lie; she could have hidden, but chose not to. She'd been naked before Jane in all ways now; why close the cage when all the canaries were long gone? "I do. I hate the pain you've been in, but I love you, and I love the places where you've been… healed. But Jane, why…?"

"See? Okay, that's _my_ point. I love you, too, regardless of the things that might make me a little... edgy about you. Look, I didn't show all of these scars for you to get all... how you get. I showed you to make a point, which is that I trust, and you can trust me. Yeah, sure, I was a little weirded out, and I'm going to have to adjust some of my thinking, but that's all me. It has nothing to do with you. And this thing that happened this morning," she waved her hand toward the bed, "doesn't change anything, either. Well, I mean, I know what your 'O' face looks like now, so I can stop wondering," she gave a little wink and smirk.

"But, besides that, everything's still cool. I know it wasn't planned. I know wet dreams happen. And, I know that you would never take advantage of me in that way. So I don't know why you're acting like someone just killed your dog, but you've gotta stop. You're more self-conscious about how I _might_ feel than I am about how I _actually_ feel. _I_ am okay, Maura. I'm honestly fine with all of this. It really doesn't bother me. In fact, it surprises me a little bit how not bothered I was about it."

Giving a heavy sigh, she moved to lean against the wall by the door, putting her hands behind her back as she did so. "Look, you've got to stop overreacting to my overreacting. Pretty soon, we're going to start crying over Hallmark commercials. It's a vicious cycle, Maur. So I saw you nearly have an orgasm? Big deal." She shrugged. "So I _might_ have unintentionally been the cause? It happened." Another shrug. "If it happens again, and it might, I _still_ wouldn't hold it against you." She pushed off the wall to start walking to the bathroom. "And, honestly, it was kind of hot. So, stop worrying about it, okay?" She rolled her eyes, walking passed the doctor and into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Maura listened, in that way that very few people ever did with all of her attention, all her might, all her focus; and a powerful focus it was. It was as if every shred of both intellect and feeling was directed solely towards understanding Jane and the words that she said, with nothing left over for reacting, for responding, as if every word found its mark and sank in from tip to feathers. She just stood there, stock still, drinking it all in, learning, assimilating the new insights into herself, dew on dry ground. By the time she moved, spoke, or even changed her expression, Jane had shut the water off, having finished her own morning shower.

Maura blinked, coming out of the trance of relief, hope, and appreciation of the expansiveness of her friend's heart. "You thought it was hot?" she whispered, just before the door opened.

Jane, a towel wrapped around her, stepped out of the steamy room and nearly into the still standing Maura. "Maura, God! You're still standing here?" She looked at the state of undress her friend was still in. "Man, are you okay? You look like you still have questions in that big brain of yours. If you do," she stepped around the doctor to make it to her dresser, "spill it because I want to make sure we're clear on everything. I mean it, Maur. Ask whatever is on your mind." She began pulling out her clothes for the day.

"I wouldn't know where to sta—" Maura began, then her eyes widened as she caught Jane's glance at her body and looked down at herself, realizing. "Oh, _shit._" Her own nakedness finally caught up to her, and she whirled around away from Jane, one arm quickly rising to cover her breasts, the opposite hand a bit lower. Her modesty had been restored to her, and later she would know that it was a precious gift, but at the moment she was horrified. Hurriedly she scampered – yes, scampered – towards her overnight bag and started pulling on clothing as fast as possible, as if Jane hadn't already seen something much more personal than just her skin.

In a fit of laughter, Jane pulled on her undergarments as Maura dug through her overnight bag for clothing. "Did you just say shit?" She managed to ask through the laughter. "Oh my God, that's awesome! Maura Isles can cuss." She pulled on her dress slacks and picked up her shirt. "When, uh," she let out a snort of laughter as she pulled her shirt on, "when you're done with the getting dressed and cussing and whatever," another amused snort, "I'll be in the kitchen making breakfast and waiting for those questions." With that, the detective sauntered out of her bedroom, still chuckling to herself.

Once Maura had gone through the utilitarian motions of dressing, enhancing her features with cosmetics, and making her hair look carelessly bouncy (which took more time and care than any other part of her morning toilette), she had also regained a little more of her poise. Nervousness hovered quite nearby, ready to pounce, but for the moment she felt like herself again. She faced the mirror and whispered a brief affirmation, knowing that the practice was nonsense, but prepared for a little nonsense if it might help. "I don't need clothes to protect me, display me, or make me. I don't want, I _am_ wanted. I don't get panic attacks, I _give_ them. I will outlast and outclass anything that comes near me. I am a badass.." She sighed. If only any of those things were true.

Oh, well. Time to face her best friend.

Maura strode into the kitchen with a confidence she did not completely feel. Jane had offered to answer questions, but she would answer one first to get the ball rolling. "Yes, I know how to swear. I just save that language for really special occasions."

"Really special occasions, huh?" Jane handed over a mug filled with coffee just how Maura preferred it. "I must be batting a thousand today, then." She turned back to the skillet on the stove, tested the heat, and decided with a shrug that it was ready for the omelets she was making.

Maura sat on the barstool opposite the kitchen, facing inward, propping her elbows on the cold almond-beige tiles. "You could say that, if you mean to suggest that everything you've done or said so far this morning, in reality or otherwise, has been extremely effective." Though she did not blush again, momentarily lowered gaze suggested she wasn't far from it, either. "Which it has. I want you to know that I heard what you said in there. About, um, accepting… everything, and being my friend. I'm still extremely embarrassed, but I'll probably get past it, if historical precedent can be seen as an accurate indicator."

Jane sat a full plate down in front of the doctor and handed her a fork. "I figured we'd both eventually get over it. If it makes you feel any better, I'm embarrassed, too. I, uh, I woke up earlier and realized how I was laying, but, when I hit the snooze, I just... sort of... went back to it. I mean, I could have _not_ laid on you like that. I invaded your personal space, and I'm sorry about that. That totally wasn't cool." She grabbed the stool across from Maura and settled with her plate. "So, we both had our moments this morning."

Maura accepted the plate and utensil, laying her right hand in her lap as if there were a napkin on it, eating with her left in European style. "Several orders of magnitude different," she replied as she cut a bite of cheesy, eggy goodness, "but I appreciate knowing that you were comfortable to do that. At the time." Musing while chewing, she eventually swallowed and wondered, with an attempt at a light, easy tone, "Will you ever be comfortable touching me again?"


	7. Chapter 7

"At the time?" Jane shook her head. "We just went over this, Maura." She took a bite of her eggs, washing it down with her coffee. "Didn't you hear a word I said? I'm not changing how I act over this." She rolled her eyes. "What's it going to take get that through that big head of yours, huh? Am I going to have to go sit your lap or something?" She took another bite of her omelet. "How is it," she asked between bites of food, "that you wound up more uncomfortable with all of this than I am, anyway?"

Maura took another two bites from her omelet before replying, needing that much time to think it all over. "I think it's because I've been so open, so _exposed_ over the past day or so. I told my best friend I was bisexual, went undercover for the first time, went to a lesbian bar for the first time – with my best friend, still, and with two co-workers overhearing our entire conversation," and had _that_ been at all addressed in their debriefings? "…had one of the most intense dreams I've had in a couple of years, and woke up… the way I woke up. I'm experiencing a much higher degree of scrutiny, emotionality, and vulnerability than usual. Even the… the incident," she glanced towards the bedroom to indicate her meaning, "was nothing unusual on _your_ part, since you always sleep that way. You just woke up in time to realize it, this time. I suppose, to make an analogy that I'm not sure will really hold up, that it's a bit like the difference between walking in on someone in a compromising position, versus being walked in on. I'm being walked in on; you're still dressed, still doing nothing but watching me."

"Okay, I get that." Jane finished her meal, letting Maura's words sink in. After cleaning her plate, she sat back down to finish her coffee and address what she had been turning over in her mind. "Maura, what questions did you want to ask me before you realized you were naked?"

This time she did blush, studiously looking down at her eggs. "You said you thought… it… was hot. I was curious as to whether you meant to tease me again, or it was just an objective observation, or if… You know, Jane, I'm not sure that's something you'd really like to clarify. You don't have to answer."

The detective took a moment to finish off her coffee, giving copious amounts of consideration to the bottom of her mug before she looked back at the doctor. "I guess that's a fair question considering... everything." She stood, rinsed out the mug, and set it beside her coffee pot. "I'm going to try to answer this honestly, and I know this will probably drive you crazy, but the answer is yes to all of the above." She shrugged as she walked to the table where she kept her gun and badge, ignoring or just not seeing Maura's rising eyebrows. "I'm... adult enough to admit that." She pulled the drawer open and grabbed the items. "Not really sure what that says about me," she grumbled more to herself than the other woman as she popped the gun and then badge onto her belt, "But at least we both know that means I'm not going to freak out when you tell me you have... well, I mean... if you tell me that you have a," Jane finally turned around to face the doctor, her face contorted in what appeared to be moderate discomfort. "A... um... a girl...a girl," she stuttered out, not really able to finish the sentence. Finally stopping herself, she slammed her mouth shut.

"Girlfriend?" Maura supplied. "A lover?"

Jane didn't answer, but her brow furrowed. Briefly, she stood there trying to reassemble her resolve, or so it appeared. "I... I have no idea why that bothers me," she spoke slowly, quietly, "But, it does, and not in the way I figured it would." She walked over to grab Joe's leash. "I'm going to have to think about this, Maur. I'll be back in a few. Come on, Joe." With that, she opened the door and followed the little dog out for their morning walk.

Maura finished her breakfast without tasting it, then cleaned up the kitchen and returned to the bedroom to tidy the bed and put her things back in the overnight bag. When she'd finished, Jane still wasn't back with Joe Friday, so she went back to the bathroom to tidy in there as well. Still no Jane. Idly, the caramel-blonde walked back to the bedroom to stand in the doorway and gaze at the scene of what she was already calling The Incident. What had she done, before that dreadful awakening? Had her body betrayed her with motion? Had she uttered aloud the words that her dreaming self could not form? Had she named her dream lover? Had it been Jane? Considering her current state of overstimulation, could she – she glanced towards the apartment door in the living room – was there time to address the tension that had never quite dissipated? _Definitely not,_ she judged, then, _Well, maybe. It wouldn't take long. Maybe if I…_

The key turned in the lock. Another missed opportunity.

Joe ran ahead, scampering across the hardwood floor and pouncing into her doggie bed in the living room. "Right there with ya, buddy," Jane called out as she watched the dog settle. "I'd be in bed, too, if I could." The brunette tossed the leash back on its hook and made a beeline for her bedroom, coming up short when she spied the shorter woman there. "Maura?" She said, her voice hushed in the silence of the room. "Why are you staring at our... _my_ bed?" Jane closed her eyes, smacking her forehead with left hand as she did so. "Did that _really_ just come out of my mouth? What the _crap?_"

Maura fidgeted with the oversized ring on her left middle finger, electing to answer Jane's less important question rather than trying to find an answer to the first that wouldn't cause them both more stress. "Yes, it did. You probably meant it in the sense that we've shared it, much like 'our' favorite diner, 'our' park bench, and 'our' table at the Dirty Robber." Quickly, she left her spot in the bedroom doorway, though she had nowhere else to go until it was time to head for the precinct, and so she was just left standing in the hallway, trying to hide the signs of resumed, interrupted arousal. Dilated eyes lowered, breathing slowed with deliberate intent, flushed cheeks hid behind honeyed waves of hair, shaking hands held one another as she cast about for some distraction. "Jane, you let me ask you questions. Do you have any for me? It seems only fair." Oh, what was that expression she'd heard Barry use so often? _Distraction fail._

Jane was still staring at the bed, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact she'd just called it _theirs_. "I don't think so. Well, maybe... I don't know," she said in a slow voice, like she was having to push through molasses to get the words out. Dropping her hand, she turned on her heels, causing Maura to take a half step backward in sudden alarm.

"Maura," the detective's voice was stronger than just seconds before. It was the voice she had when she'd come to some sort of conclusion on a line of action. "You know what's going on, don't you? I mean, you're a genius, right? So, that means you put things together pretty quickly. Me? I'm just a detective, and my gut instincts are pretty sharp. At least, I think they are, but, this thing going on with the... um ...everything? My gut is all kinds of mixed up. I mean, first I think I know what's going on, and then I don't have a clue. It's weird, you know? Normally, I totally have it by now. But, you... I don't... you constantly throw me off my game. I haven't been this screwed in the head since Bobby Adam in the 9th grade." She frowned, throwing her hands up in the air. "I mean, come on!"

Guilt snuck into Maura's features as she considered how, or whether, to avoid the question. But she couldn't. This was Jane, with whom she'd promised herself not to hide anymore. "It's… it _seems_ familiar. But I think that if I answer you fully, I'm going to be very much out of line, and I don't want to interfere in what's happening for you right now. And there's always the chance that I'm badly mistaken. Psychology is such an inexact science, and it isn't my field at all, and…"

Pursing her lips in thought, Jane gave the doctor a thoughtful look before replying. "I'm attracted to you, aren't I?" The question came out as if she were asking if Maura thought her shirt went with her jacket. There was no nervousness, no discomfort. There wasn't even a hint of anger or disgust. It was a very complex question asked very simply.

"The only answer I have for you," Maura replied just as simply, "is more than half made up of wishful thinking."

Nodding to herself, Jane slowly walked over to the other woman, her eyes narrowing in thought. "What's the other less-than-half say?" She stopped, allowing just a few inches of space between them.

"As a student of facial, postural, vocal, and," Maura paused as Jane stepped nearer to her, "spatial pattern recognition, I do have an opinion. But I think this is something I should try not to influence. Nevertheless," she went on, sensing an undercurrent of exasperation waiting to flower, "I would tentatively answer in the affirmative with those caveats in place, as well as one more." She took in a deep breath that was supposed to be calming, but wasn't. "My perceptions right now are being influenced, too. I'm not in any position to be objective, and haven't been since I woke up this morning. I'm still… in a place of… That is, I'm s-slightly… Well, _very_…"

"Turned on?" Jane whispered with an intensity she had never shown to Maura before. She took another step, inching closer to the doctor. "Yeah, I sympathize with that." She tilted her head to the side, her eyes falling to the doctor's lips. "Completely."

And it was back, the look of arrested embarrassment that filled her eyes the first time she had opened them that morning, accompanied by a faint whimper. "Jane?" she pleaded, unable to express – maybe unable to even know – whether she needed to back away from the intensity that had sprung up between them, or surge forward and multiply it.

"Nope, not doing that again," Jane replied as she pressed forward until their bodies were flush with each other. "Not going through another cycle of are we or aren't we embarrassed. Been there, done that." Her eyes, still intense, were dilated, and, as with the night before, her breathing was becoming shallow. But, this time, neither woman could simply ignore the signs. "Abby Cotton." Jane quietly said as she leaned further down, her hands slowly making their way up to the doctor's waist. "She was the first one. Then, my 6th grade teacher, Miss McCuller. Jaime Kindle in my 8th grade math class. Lindsay Dolton in 9th grade chemistry. A church choir director, Mrs. Alister. In high school, it was my basketball coach, Sarah Johnson." Jane's hands finally found a place on Maura's waist, and she gripped the woman, keeping her still – or trying, at any rate, but failing as Maura's body began to sway forward and back, spine stretching like a snake awakening from hibernation. "I wouldn't admit it out loud, but I had a thing for them." She swallowed. "I didn't want to stand out. Already had issues without adding to it. Then, after junior college, there wasn't anyone. I figured it was a phase, and I was done with it. But," she leaned forward, just hair's breadth more, her breath falling across Maura's lips, "I guess I'm not." She closed the very small distance, kissing the other woman gently.

Maura moaned into Jane's mouth as her body melded with that of the taller woman, pliant and giving at first, then becoming more active as it finally succumbed to its own demands, then began to make a few more. Her hands ran up Jane's back, one atop her shirt and the other, possibly by happy accident, beneath it as she pushed her full body up against that of her beautiful friend, dream lover made real. She offered no words, spoke no questions. There was only sensation, movement, the harsh and ragged breathing of the sudden onset of the hard edge. After a very, very long and enjoyable few minutes, she managed to gasp out, "Bed," when that last bit of logic left to her kicked in and informed her that if they didn't get to a horizontal surface, and fast, they would fall down, hurt themselves, and interrupt the launch sequence in an entirely inconvenient moment.

Reluctantly, Jane pulled back, "Can't," she gasped, moving a hand to Maura's shoulder to steady them both. "Work." She closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing. "We have to go to work. The case..." She opened her eyes, her face filled with anguish. "We have to finish the case, and Frost... Korsak, they're expecting us soon." She stepped back to give them both breathing room, a noise very much like a whine escaping her throat as Maura's hand slid across her skin and then out from under her shirt. "But... but, tonight," she took another step back, finding a wall to lean against.

Strangling back the shuddering sob of frustration, Maura nodded with such reluctance that even acceptance of Jane's decision almost qualified her for the first lie of her adult life. She, too, leaned back, propping herself on the opposite hallway wall and pounding her fist against it rhythmically with restrained thuds. "_Damn_ it," she swore, amply illustrating just what sorts of moments she found significant enough for curses. However, discipline was her stock in trade, and as she forced her body to obey the needful circumstances, she nodded again. "Yes. Tonight," she vowed fervently, then stepped forward for one last, long embrace. "Tonight…"

"...cannot get here fast enough," Jane finished out as she slowly, painfully withdrew from Maura's embrace. "We should go, before we can't." She quickly walked to the door, picking her keys up on the way. "Meet you there?"

"Yes," she said, one of many times she hoped to use that word with Jane in the very near future.


	8. Chapter 8

The night's promised activities did not occur.

Last night had been surreal; this morning was nothing short of soul-quaking, in several ways. The work day had brought reality back to her confusion, given her something to focus on besides her internal upheavals and revelations, and Jane needed a little time-out from both work and personal matters. A time-out, moreover, that did not involve other cops, so a trip to the Dirty Robber was out. Instead, Jane went down to the Merch on the pretext of thanking the owner for her assistance with their case, despite the fact that none of Jane's dates had been a DNA match for the killer. Once there, she had stayed for a drink and some thought.

As the rather forward bar owner flirted with her and shifted delivery boxes, Jane caught a glimpse of the woman's hands in their torn work gloves. They looked strong, or at least, the forearms looked strong, probably from all that heavy lifting. _Maura's hands are strong too, from moving bodies all the time, _Jane recollected with a small, private smile. Watching the bar owner work, the detective fell into easy remembrance of details she had not realized she had ever noticed about Maura: the way the light hit her hair, the way she could tell if Maura had seen her colorist lately, the way her hands were always perfectly manicured even though her nails were short, the way short nails suddenly seemed significant to her.

She spread out her own hand and took stock of the long fingers, short nails, slight swelling of knuckles. Jane's hands bore many callouses, evidence of hard work and hard play; would they scratch Maura's skin? Would Maura feel her touch tonight and immediately insist that she buff her hands before touching her again, or would she enjoy the roughness of hands combined with the softness Jane intended to use in her touch? She felt herself warming at the sudden turn of thoughts, imagining Maura as she'd been that morning. But now in Jane's daydream, instead of simply waking up that way by happenstance, she would be looking like that, making those sounds, because Jane would be touching her with the explicit intent of drawing them out of her. She'd never come close to being with a woman before, but how hard could it be? She was a woman, herself. Jane knew well what she herself enjoyed, thanks to a very few men and a lifelong acquaintance with her own body; wouldn't Maura enjoy the same things? Jane could extrapolate, experiment to see which types of touch produced those gorgeous responses in her. _God, one day knowing I want her, and already I'm planning logistics._

And then Jane realized that Maura would most likely be trying to please her, too, and that thought consumed several more minutes of beer sipping while the bartender moved her stock delivery in from the truck, scarcely part of Jane's awareness. Maura's lips were full and soft, but not passive during the regrettably short kissing session they had enjoyed that morning. Thanks to those awful early-morning yoga sessions and their running, Jane knew that her friend's – girlfriend's – _Maura's_ body was fit, toned, as hard as her own, yet with more in the way of curves. Soft. What would it feel like to be beneath and atop that beautiful, warm body?

No, she already knew, didn't she? They had shared a bed often, and Jane had awakened more than once to find them entangled with one another. But that was different. Those times, she had felt faint embarrassment and discomfort. At first, the discomfort had been because Maura was a woman, and later, because they were best friends who would have to look at one another the next day. But lately, hadn't the embarrassment really been about the fact that there _was no_ discomfort? Hadn't Jane simply felt she _should_ be embarrassed, and confused and upset when she wasn't? In fact, the two women had been experiencing one another's bodies for a very long time. The only things missing were actual nudity, and intent.

Well, this time there would be intent. And nudity. No barriers of clothing or societally induced hang-ups would come between them tonight. Not even condoms, Jane realized, because neither of them could get pregnant. Though, she'd heard some women talking in the bathroom at the bar the previous night about something called dental dams, one young lesbian educating another, and wondered if that would be something Maura knew more about. Probably. She struck Jane as someone who would care very much about safety. Would she have a supply of whatever dental dams were? Rubber gloves?

Jane's face softened again as she remembered that Maura's purple or blue lab gloves were sized to fit, and even managed to look sleek on her, showing the outlines of her deft, strong fingers. Jane hoped that if there were gloves, they wouldn't be purple or blue, like the ones she used in the morgue. She didn't want dead people gloves on her. _In her._ She blushed again, but did not require herself to shove aside the thoughts that were causing it this time.

Then another gloved hand came into her view, distracting her from her hopes for the night. This time the glove wasn't sleek rubber or latex, but dirty deerskin, with a tear at the webbing between the thumb and forefinger. Jane felt a prickle at the back of her neck that spread down her shoulders and the backs of her arms, and clear down to her hands. This time, the tingle was not the pleasurable kind that Maura inspired in her. It made her feel cold and dirty; and what she was going to do about it made her feel even colder and dirtier. She stood up from her seat, placed money on the counter for the beer she'd had, and looked up into the eyes of the bar owner.

"Thanks for all your help." Jane hesitated. Would she really do this? She would. A smile, an attempt at flirtation, ghosted across her lips without quite making it all the way up to her eyes. "You said if I was ever feeling adventurous…"

The owner gave her a predatory smile. She'd been watching Jane stare at her drink and her hands, and knew the general direction of the detective's thoughts. Her girlfriend would understand. She made her way around the end of the bar and stood right up next to Jane, in her space, lips hungering for a taste from that long, tall drink of water. Long-practiced at the seduction of "straight" women, however, she didn't aim directly for the lips. Lips were personal. A woman experimenting never wanted the personal. She bent to nibble at Jane's neck, putting everything she had into making Jane want more, rather than feel satisfied at all.

Jane remained perfectly still. It was good, she could admit that. It felt terrific, physically. But she felt like shuddering in disgust, not pleasure. Was it because it was a woman? Was it because it wasn't Maura? Was it because she suspect this particular woman of murder? Either way, she felt her skin's sensitivity heighten with what she could have enjoyed, even as her stomach roiled in revulsion. She looked down an inch or so into the bar owner's eyes. What should she say? What could she do?

In the end, she simply walked out of the bar and drove to the precinct, where she spoke to no one on the way to the morgue, then into the lab, where she found Maura tidying up after some sort of testing thing that Jane didn't care to ask about. "I need you to swab my neck for DNA," she said, sweeping her hair aside and praying Maura wouldn't demand to know why.

"I'm not even going to ask," replied the medical examiner smoothly and complying with the request.

Later that same day, the bar owner and her girlfriend, the grieving widow, were hauled in for murder.

Just before the end of the work day, a construction crew unearthed a mass grave containing the bodies of fourteen men, some so old that the bones were clean, others newer, one relatively fresh – three or four days old, at most – and the hunt was on. Jane had her mother come and pick up Joe; Maura had his caretaker come and feed Bass. Maura's autopsy lasted until nearly three o'clock in the morning, and Jane's night wasn't any better. The two fell into bed and were asleep within minutes, barely having remembered to undress and shower first.

Jane's phone served as their alarm. The ringtone blared out, echoing in the quiet of Jane's bedroom. With a disgruntled groan, the detective disentangled herself from Maura long enough to roll over, grab the ringing phone, and roll back into the warm spot she had just left.

"Rizzoli." The brunette's voice was was still harsh with sleep. Maura stirred and blinked, eyes opening bright and wide as an anime cartoon, but she maintained silence, unsure of how much Jane wanted their coworkers to comprehend of the changes in their friendship.

"Jane, it's Frost. Listen, I know you didn't get home until sometime this morning, but I thought you'd want to know this." Frost sounded more chipper than Jane liked to hear at seven o'clock in the morning. "We've got a lead in the mass grave case. That guy, Charlie Dalton, he and his father look like people we want to talk to."

"Yeah?" She sat up a little, glancing down at the doctor. "Where are they?"

"Should be at work. I have the address. You want me to text it to you and meet you there? Korsak and I can handle it if you..."

"No, text it to me, and I'll meet you there in an hour. That work?" She was already making her way reluctantly out of the bed and to her bathroom.

"Yeah, see you later."

Jane tossed her phone on top of her dresser on her way out of her bedroom. Glancing back, she gave an apologetic look towards the honey blonde still resting in her bed. "I'm sorry, Maura. We got a lead. But, you stay here as long as you need. If this doesn't pan out, I'm coming back home to get some more sleep." She yawned as she turned back around and left for a quick shower.

"I'll walk Joe," the doctor volunteered as she followed Jane out of bed, "and meet you at the precinct. I should get some paperwork done in the morning, and this afternoon I intend to review intern applications. If you're free by lunchtime, let's get together," she suggested, all in between morning ballet: one brushing teeth, the other showering, then switch. They'd rehearsed something like this routine several times before, though usually Maura maintained a closed door between the time she got into the bathroom and the time she got out, fully prepared for her day. This time, the only separation was during actual toilet use. There were limits, after all.

As usual, Maura took longer than Jane to get ready for the day. However, since Jane got started earlier, she was fully clothed and nearly out the door by the time Maura emerged from the shower, wrapped in Jane's towel, hair still wet, to catch up to the darker woman just before she opened the door onto the outside world. Wordlessly, she stretched up on tiptoe to wrap her arms around Jane's neck and pull her down for a _scorching_ kiss to send her off into the day.

"Lunch," Jane murmured in a somewhat dazed state. "Lunch is good," blinking rapidly, she leaned down for another, lighter kiss. "I... uh... it's date. I'll be down to the morgue to get you around noon." With a somewhat stilted gait, Jane left her apartment, gently closing the door behind her.

Maura watched Jane leave with a smile – nay, a smirk – that nearly matched some of Jane's for sassiness. That walk told her everything she'd wanted to know. It also told her that, no matter how good the opportunity was, she would not divert from her stated plan to get dressed, walk the dog, and go to work. If Jane could work with her two-day buildup of tension, so could she.


	9. Chapter 9

Dr. Isles's heels clicked on the bullpen floor as she brought in a basket of muffins, croissants, and glazed pastries from a patisserie nearby, along with a take-away carafe of gourmet coffee from her favorite shop, which she dropped off on the desks of various uniformed officers on the ground floor before heading up to Homicide. It upset her when those who protected the city had to make do with the shoddiest coffee that could be scrounged, and she did her best to correct that injustice, just barely rarely enough that they didn't come to depend on being spoiled. A different division got treats every few days.

Today was Frankie Rizzoli's lucky day; he spotted the Doc coming and claimed the first cup of coffee and his pick of pastries, something sticky and jam-filled. "Thanks, Doc! So you're the coffee fairy. I've been wondering."

"You're very welcome, Frankie," Maura responded with a warm smile. This good man was her… not brother-in-law, since she and Jane had no legal attachment, but still, there was a connection, even if he didn't know it. "Share these around, okay?"

It took Jane and Frost a few hours to track down their suspects and speak with them. After taking down their answers, the detectives had headed back to the precinct with little more than they started with.

"Man, I was sure those guys were it," Frost complained as he threw he jacket over the back of his chair and plopped down. "What are we going to do now?"

"Look for more leads," Jane answered as she sat down in her own chair. "Maura should have something back on those lab tests by now, assuming she made it in this morning." For a moment, Jane's eyes glazed over as she thought about how she had left the doctor that morning.

"Jane?" Frost called out from his desk. "Jane! Hello? Earth to Jane." He snapped his fingers.

"Oh, right, sorry. I got distracted." She stood, grabbing her notepad. "I'm going to go downstairs and check on things. It's," she checked her watch, "almost noon. So, I think I'll try for lunch, too."

"Okay, see you in a bit." Frost yelled to Jane's retreating form.

In the lab attached to the morgue, Maura bent over her microscope, adjusting the magnification and focus with one hand, making notes with the other. She wore her black scrubs, hair in a tidy bun, hands gloved in purple vinyl, feet in black gym shoes because they were easier on her back. Her black Cross pen moved rapidly in shorthand, which she would transcribe later.

Jane's eyes ran around the lab before spotting the doctor working alone in the corner. Quickly closing the distance and wrapping her arms around the doctor, she whispered into the other woman's ear. "It's lunch time."

Maura froze in place, then softened in Jane's arms. "Mm. Careful, or I'll abandon decorum and discretion." She straightened up, leaned back into the detective's whipcord-lean body, and sighed in contentment with another, "Mmm_mmmm_. Let me just…" She turned off the microscope, made one or two final, notes, and headed for the women's bathroom to get out of her scrubs and into normal clothing, glancing back once to see if Jane was following her.

The detective did not miss a beat. Hot on the heels of the honey blonde, she gave a wide grin as she followed the smaller women into the women's bathroom. "You need any help?" she said as they stepped inside.

"Y… No," Maura changed her mind mid-word, though she did look for a moment as though she might accept. "We only have an hour for lunch, and I'm actually very hungry. Not only that, but if you help me," she reasoned while unfastening her scrubs, "or touch me, or even just keep looking at me like that, I'm going to insist that you take me… right here… immediately… against the door of this very public bathroom… instead of in your soft, clean, private bed, where we can take all the time we want." Not fair of her, to make her simple clothing change into a strip tease. Not fair at all, but at least she seemed to be giving herself as much of a tease as she was giving to the tall brunette. "Now, hand me my dress so I can put it on and we can get out of here."

Jane, for her part, simply stood and stared, wide-eyed as Maura slowly removed her clothing. Mouth slightly agape, breathing coming in ragged draws of air, she never heard anything past "No" that came from Maura's mouth. Her brain had simply stopped working.

Delighted laughter bubbled up from Maura's lips, which parted in a genuine smile as she hung her scrubs on the wall hook and slipped her dress off the hanger, watching Jane's face instead of even glancing at the clothing. "Consider this a preview for later," she suggested, reversing the strip tease and putting on her dress and heels. When at last her navy blue undergarments were concealed, she stepped towards Jane and slid her hands around the detective's waist, pulling her closer. Their two bodies blocked the door, so that even if someone had tried to enter, the interruption would have been impossible. "A preview, and a promise."

Groaning, the detective leaned down for a kiss. "You know, maybe we could just call it a day? I mean, those reports are going to take some time to process, and I'm still pretty tired. You're tired, aren't you?" She lowered her head to run a trail of light kisses down the doctor's neck stopping just short of her collar. "We're really not at our best if we're not well rested, I'm just saying," she whispered against Maura's neck.

Maura deflated somewhat, but nodded agreement. "It's still a promise," she said as she stepped back away from the warm, tempting woman, "but you'll have to redeem it when we've both had at least one good night's sleep. Can we afford to just go home right now? Skip the afternoon?"

With a chuckle, Jane pulled the honey blonde back to her, "Sweetheart, that was my round-about-way of getting us home sooner so you can make good on your promise. I really have no intention of sleeping once I get you some place with a bed." She leaned in for another kiss.

After a brief moment in which she considered whether to take offense, Maura realized with a spark of interest, "Are you _teasing_ me, Jane? You must not have the slightest understanding of exactly what you're facing right now." Once more she stepped into Jane's personal space, pressing right up against her all the way down their fronts. Her hands remained down at her sides, however, gently tickling wrists, fingers, and palms, as her voice dropped to a whisper husky enough to rival Jane's own. "You don't have to do that, you know. Make a special effort to tease me. To make me want you. To make me ready for you."

Rising onto tiptoe then, still pressing forward and upward into the taller woman's taut frame, she whispered even more quietly. "All you have to do to get me ready, Jane… is show up. I've been," she murmured into that long, slim neck, "_ready_ for you since the first time you touched me."

"Oh God," the brunette shivered at the extreme physical contact and mental images running through her head. "Screw lunch, let's just go to my place. It's closer." She leaned in, running her nose across the doctor's temple before placing a kiss there. "They won't hold it against us if we're late coming back. We'll just tell them we took a nap."

The kiss sent Maura into shivers, with no more focused touch than that. She had not exaggerated the extent of her physical response in the least, and it showed. Hazel eyes darkened; she suppressed a whimper. "J-Jane," she rasped, mouth suddenly dry, "I want to take you home right now and do _unspeakable_ things with you, provided we could get all the way there..." Reluctantly, the butterscotch blonde stepped backward again, leaving both of them bereft of contact and chilled. "But with all that I've been holding back for the last few days, I'm afraid it might only be about sexual gratification. I love you too much to use you like that."

Her fingers stilled their tickling and just laced through Jane's. "I want you to take me home. To sleep for a few hours, and if I'm fully honest, I'll need to have a cold shower. When I touch you, I don't want anything on my mind but giving you an understanding of my feelings for you. As enjoyable as I know it's going to be, I really hope that the physical aspect of it will be secondary.

"Will you take me home to sleep for a few hours, and wait until I'm able to slow down and savor you?"

"I," Jane visibly grimaced, "Maura, if I take you home, I'm not sure I could be held responsible for my actions." She took in a calming breath. "Why don't we," she actually twitched as the words left her mouth, "Go grab a salad at Jake's? I don't think either one of us has had anything to eat in almost 24 hours, and the distraction couldn't hurt." She sighed, pulling her hands free to run them over her face. "Oh man, I can't believe this is happening. Of course we'd get a huge case with no leads at exactly the same time we finally decide to just go with it." She threw her hands down, slamming a fist against the closed door behind her. "Damn it, it's like Murphy has it in for me. All my life… it's just too much sometimes." She gave a frustrated snort. "So, salad?"

"Salad, then nap," Maura agreed, hurriedly reaching for the neatly hung scrubs, then the door handle, lest she have second thoughts. "And then… Well, then probably we'll both get called in for more work, but after that…"

"Maura, no," Jane sighed as she followed the doctor back to the morgue. "If you're all over wanting to be rested before we move forward with this, then maybe we should sleep in separate beds? Frankly, I feel the cranky about to smack me like a Mack truck. How about salad, then we split and at least take a real nap? At least that'll give us a leg up tonight because I'm pretty sure we're not resting tonight. At least, I don't plan to," she grumbled as they entered the morgue.

Confusion reigned for just long enough that Maura had to trot after Jane, calling "Wait up, Jane! Jane, wait for me!" like somebody's annoying kid sister on the playground. When she did catch up, the smaller woman slipped her hand into the detective's and squeezed her fingers. "Jane, I just…" She paused as a lab tech entered, shook her head and looked forbidding, and the tech left them the room again. "I just really, really want to make sure that _you're_ sure, and that I'm able to focus on you instead of on myself. So that you know…"

Her eyes turned glassy with moisture. "So that you'll be able to tell that it's not just about physical release for me. I'm not rejecting you, Jane. _Never_. I'm just not as…" She sighed, frustrated at her inability with words, an inability she seldom encountered. "I'm not used to this depth of physical desire, or this sweeping emotion, and to have them both together is making me feel self-conscious. I look at you, and I touch you, and you're so… You make me want to be bold and open. Jane, I am just not used to taking charge. Usually, I show up and an interested party takes it from there, and all I ever have to know is when and how to ask them to slow down. I haven't had any practice at being brazen and letting a partner know how much I want them, but I want to be that way with you. I want to be _shameless_ with you…

"But more than all of that, I want you to know that it's not because of what my body needs. It's because you're already in me, Jane. You've been moving inside me, touching my soft, secret places for so long, and I don't think you ever knew it, and I want you to know… everything." She took a deep breath. "So if you want me, you have to know it comes with all of that. And if it doesn't scare you, then," another long, deep breath, "then take me home. Right now."


	10. Chapter 10

Jane's eyes ran over Maura's upturned face as she listened to what the smaller woman had to say. With a considerate and thoughtful gaze, she gave a moment's pause to really consider the doctor's words before responding in a quiet voice, "I don't do one night stands, Maura. If I didn't want more from you and with you than sex, we wouldn't be talking about this right now. Stop doing that thing you do where you double and triple check me to make sure I know what I want. I _know_. Trust me. I know _exactly_ what I want. You might think I'm just being… rash, but I'm not. Stop testing me, Maura. You don't have to." Sinewy fingers ran across the doctor's face, gently following the curve of cheekbone on its way to rest in the honey blonde hair Jane so loved to admire. "We'll tell the guys that we're taking the rest of the day off to rest, and you can tell your techs to call you if the test results come in, okay?"

Maura could only nod as relief washed over her features. Relief, and desire. Then she schooled her features with near-miraculous control and called out, "Michael?" A lab tech appeared in record time, dabbing the crumbs from lunch off his blond beard. As she spoke to him, the medical examiner picked up her purse, shut down her computer, and did the other little things that she needed to do. "I've been awake for forty of the last forty-eight hours, and I need to go home and rest, or my work will suffer greatly. I'm not to be called for anything short of a dead body until I enter this lab again, whether that's tomorrow or the day after. Understood? Good. Have Jeyprakesh and Andrew sterilize the equipment for when I get back." Michael nodded and went back to his sandwich as Maura turned back to Jane, professional mask slipping away. "One down. Your turn."

With a nod of her head, Jane motioned for the doctor to follow her upstairs.

Once in the bullpen, Jane walked over to her desk, shutting it down as she spoke to the other two detective. "Hey, I'm beat. I'm going home to sleep. You guys got this?" She turned, her jacket in her hand.

"Yeah, sure. How long you been up, Rizzoli?" Korsak asked from behind his monitor. Sounds of kittens could be heard drifting from his corner of the office.

"About forty, give or take. I'm thinking I need to crash or things could get ugly." Jane headed for the door.

"You got that right," Frost mumbled under his breath.

"Hey, I heard that," Jane turned, pointing at her partner. "You call me if there's a break, got it?"

"Yeah, sure," Frost gave Jane a hard look. "I'll call if something big comes up. Go get some sleep. We got this."

"Alright, see you guys tomorrow," Jane called as she headed out of the squad room, Maura following behind.

To her chagrin, Jane was not permitted to speed, run red lights, or even do the California roll at stop signs. The drive to her place was so legal that it was practically sedate, which meant that they arrived intact, and a good bit calmer than when they'd first taken off from the precinct. It allowed them to get inside, where Maura ordered in lunch and showered off the smells of the morgue, and Jane took Joe Friday for a surprisingly early walk before calling her mother to come get the dog for the night. Once Joe was sent off with her human grandma (with Maura conveniently out of sight to forestall maternal nosiness), Jane took her own shower. Lunch arrived; they ate a little to tide them over, then put away the rest for later, when they would really need it.

Then Detective Rizzoli and Doctor Isles retired to the bedroom to keep all those promises they'd made to themselves and one another.

The alarm clock was an unpleasant intrusion into Jane's peaceful slumber. She was floating safely in a world of soft cuddly goodness when the incessant beeping of her alarm clock pushed her back into the conscious world. With a groan, she reached out, searching for the alarm, only to discover she was facing the wrong way. Grunting, she rolled over, slammed the snooze button, and rolled back to her previous spot. It was only then that she realized with a contented sigh that she was still using Maura's chest as her pillow. Her immediate impulse was to snuggle into the warmth of the other woman, which she did with a happy hum, enjoying the feel of skin-on-skin contact. She liked where she was, and the detective decided to stay there as long as she could, or at least until the alarm went off again. Sighing, she resettled, one arm and one leg thrown across the body of the small woman.

Naked as the day she was born, Maura stretched beneath her lover, still mostly asleep, and then continued to stretch and adjust.

_She was in yoga class, and all around her were students contorting themselves into improbable positions. As handsome, boring Brock droned on about breathing, posture, oneness, and world unity, she caught sight of Jane, and suddenly she couldn't even hear Brock anymore, nor anyone else complaining about their disruption of class. They were naked, muscles fully limber, eyes glowing dark with want as they each took a different but complementary position, twisting and twining around one another until not yoga, but kama sutra, was being practiced. She was alive, limitless, not subject to gravity or to any other aspect of reality except Jane's touch, which burned almost to painfulness. Her breathing was quick as they kissed, touched, felt; the vagueness of previous nightly encounters became specific as only personal experience could do. She was trying to speak, trying to say please, touch me there, yes, love, let me kiss you here – but it was not necessary. Jane read her mind and did all, and more. She shivered, shuddered…_

…and woke, thighs clenching around the tall, olive-skinned woman she had loved and wanted for so long. A joyful cry leapt from her mouth as she opened her eyes and found herself looking back into espresso-brown depths, realizing there was no more need to struggle against climax. "Jane," she panted, "Jane, Jane, _Jaaane."_

A smirk firmly planted on her face, Jane lay motionless as a shiver ran through her body. No thought of moving away or pulling back crossed her mind as her body tingled with excitement and her eyes grew large with a mixture or arousal and awe. Her thigh, still firmly clamped between Maura's was tense and, she mentally purred, moist. Her hands were vice grips where they rested, one in the sheets, the other against Maura's torso, as she held her against herself.

"Mmmm," she managed to breathe out before swallowing hard, mouth suddenly dry, as she watched her lover experience something amazing to behold. "Maura," she whispered, trying not to interrupt but wanting to be a part of it at the same time. Not sure what to do, the dark haired brunette remained where she was.

She watched.

Her breaths came in pants, beads of sweat had formed on her neck and across her hairline, and the look of desire battled with something else more primal even than that.

Slowly closing rising up from her position laying across the smaller woman, she watched the doctor's body spasm beneath her. Jane took in a slow, measured breath. "Sweetheart, _that_ was hot." Her smirk broadened into a grin. "I hope some of that was my fault."

Maura clung tightly to Jane, holding her for an astonishingly long time, until finally she fell back to the bed, still mightily aroused, but spent. "_All_," she sighed in fathoms-deep satisfaction. "All yours." Languorously she drew shaking arms back up around her love's shoulders to hold her close. She breathed for a moment until she could form sentences slightly closer to coherent. "All yours for at least a year now. And from now on."

"That long?" Humor filled, darkened eyes gazed down into slightly glazed hazel eyes. "You mean I've been missing out on something that was clearly mine for an entire year?" Maura nodded unabashed confirmation. Jane leaned down to place a kiss and then lightly nibble at the doctor's exposed neck. "Hmm… I have a lot of missed time to make up for, don't I?" Again, Maura nodded.

Jane chuckled as she pulled away, moving to sit up. "You're amazing, you know that?" She ran an appreciative hand over the form before her. "I think I could stay in bed with you for the rest of our lives and be perfectly happy."

"Mmm'kay," Maura replied, slurring slightly as her body, still keyed up, moved beneath that hand; but it was not to be.

Chuckling, Jane threw her legs over the bed's edge to stand up. "But first, I'm going to hit the bathroom." She moved toward the bedroom door, not bothering to pull anything on before walking away from the bed. Glancing over her shoulder with that same Rizzoli grin still on her face, she said, "Shower's going to be awfully empty if I'm in there by myself."

It took a little while for Maura to remember how do anything but grin smugly and a bit stupidly. Once she could stand, she followed Jane into the bathroom. She wanted to brush her teeth, shower, and then… Well, she should probably insist that they eat something that would replenish their bodies' energy, because she fully intended to make the detective late for work today, if Jane had the poor taste to be disciplined enough to go in. Surely she wouldn't, though. _Would she?_ Not if Maura Isles had anything to say about it.

The humming from the brunette echoed through the small bathroom as she lathered her hair into a soapy mess on top of her head. She generally didn't sing in the shower. Growing up with two brothers meant she had learned early on not to provide any more any more ammunition for teasing than what would would already be present in just living her life as their sister. However, she couldn't seem to help herself. The brunette hummed away, a smile still plastered on her face, as she rinsed her hair and groped for the conditioner.

Which Maura deftly plucked right out of reach as she snuck into the shower between Jane and the downward spray. "Looking for something, Delicious?" she asked as the water poured over her head, face, and body. _Not bad, as nicknames go, I think. I hope she likes it, because it suits her. _"What'll you give me for it?"

"A kiss now and something else after we're both clean?" Jane's voice was low and full of promise as she pushed her hair from her face. "Hello, sweetheart," she leaned over to run her hands over the wet curves in front over her while placing a kissing on the oh-so-willing lips of the other woman.

"I will accept your offer," Maura responded through more kisses, "and I'll even condition your hair for you. Turn around." Squirting a dollop of creamy conditioner into her hands, she ran it through the dark locks and massaged the scalp, just as her favorite hairdresser always did for her. "I've always loved sleepovers," she mused happily as her fingers worked the conditioner into scalp and tresses, then into her own. "Doing one another's hair was my favorite part."

"If your sleepovers consisted of you getting naked and taking a shower with your friends, I may need to hear details," Jane mused as she leaned backward to allow Maura easier access to her hair. "Okay, remind me about this position the next time I tell you I don't want to go to yoga class." She sighed as she allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of the doctor's skillful fingers messaging her scalp.

A chuckle, low and intimate, sounded behind Jane as Maura continued to stroke her fingers through the hair, removing the tangles as an excuse for more touching. Which question to answer… "Yoga actually helps with a great many aspects of interpersonal physicality. I'm surprised you didn't notice before now, but yes, I will remind you." A few more minutes passed, then she suggested a rinse. "You're right, by the way. Those sleepovers were a lot of fun, but not exactly like you're thinking. There wasn't a lot of naked time. Until I was sixteen, I was very body-shy. And anyway, we were all dorm-mates at boarding school, so sleepovers for us just meant swapping which room you were staying in for the night. But of course, we did one another's hair, and I was fairly good at that, because I would give head and shoulder massages while the deep-conditioners were setting. Mani-pedi parties, too – I was in demand there because of the hand and foot massages.

"I didn't do well in group sleepovers, though." Now that Jane's hair had been addressed, it was her own turn to soap and rinse. "That's where I got the nickname Maura-the-Bore-a. When it was just one other person, it was easier to relate. The person I'd be with, whoever she was, wouldn't be as concerned with looking down her nose at me in order to seem cool, and we could just talk as people. That's how I wound up sleeping with Ashton, actually. All my classmates ditched me and went out to do something the parents had ordered us not to do, and I stayed behind. She was…"

Jane reached out to place a finger over Maura's lips. "If you really tell me about your other people, I'm going to be really jealous. I'm feeling a little possessive right now, I've got to say. I'm thinking me, more possessive and jealous than I normally am with you, might be a little much. So, I'm going to step out of the shower and dry my hair. Then, I'm going to call in sick and crawl back into bed. Okay?"

Maura nodded, though she didn't seem to quite understand. "I'll follow you when I get the conditioner out of mine, too." She took a moment while still rinsing, while Jane was drying, to think it over, but couldn't come up with a reason. Shutting off the water and reaching for Jane's damp towel for her own hair, she called out from the half-open bathroom door, "Jane? I wasn't cheating on you. I didn't know you then. And as you might recollect, you owe Ashton a debt of gratitude for teaching me the thing that you liked so much…"

"Don't care," came the return from somewhere in the bedroom's general vicinity. "My possession of you is retroactive."

"Possession?" echoed Maura as she exited the bathroom, hair toweled dry but still haphazard, still naked, and already smiling that oh-so-superior smile that she had when she knew she was about to get something she wanted. "Is that how it is? Well, then, I suppose you'd better make sure everyone knows it. Maybe you'd better find some way to mark me as your very own, so no one can get any _ideas_ about moving into me."

Stepping out of the bedroom doorway still wearing nothing but a smile, Jane grabbed Maura by the waist pulling her forward with one hand while pulling the towel from her hair with the other. "It's _moving in on you,_ not _moving _into – never mind." Running her free hand into the wet locks of honey blonde, the detective pulled the smaller women's head to the side to expose the elegant neck she so often admired from a far. "Mine," she hoarsely whispered as she bent over to nip and suck at the sensitive spot she'd found the night before on the doctor's neck. "All mine," she murmured against the pulse point before biting down, making certain to leave no question as to who had the pleasure of calling Maura theirs.

Maura practically hung from Jane's supporting hands as they captured her, slung her off her feet, and that beautiful mouth descended onto her flesh. "Yours," she repeated, echoing her earlier promise, "all yours."

It was a fresh surprise, though the previous night had been an even bigger one, when Jane took the lead in their lovemaking. Maura had thought about it so many times, but believed that she herself would be the one to guide them. She was the one who had been with a woman before, after all. But Jane showed astonishing attention to detail, insight into her reactions, ardor. Never had Maura felt so wanted. When eventually she pleaded for her turn to lavish similar attention on Jane, Maura had therefore worried that perhaps Jane would not allow it. Some women didn't, she knew. However, Jane accepted pleasure with just as much fervor as she gave it, much to Maura's delight. Her responses were all Maura had ever dreamed, or daydreamed, and more. But again this morning, it seemed Jane wanted to take charge, and after a token resistance just to get the detective growling – _growling_ – at her, she had melted and asked for Jane to mark her, own her, claim her. "Yours," she acquiesced with growing elation at each new touch, each new bite, until she could no longer utter even that much.

Jane slowly backed them into the bedroom as she continued her attack. "Mine," she whispered once more as she turned them to lay Maura on the bed. "You know", she pulled back just far enough to look down into the dilated hazel eyes of her lover, "I'm yours, too." She dipped her head for another searing kiss. "For as long as you'll have me."

Marked from stem to stern, and unaccountably pleased about it, Maura nudged and pressed until she lay atop Jane. "Then I suppose I ought to make sure everyone knows it," she growled back, and bent to the task of providing her signature upon the body of her lover.


End file.
